Drabbles
by cr8zymommy
Summary: This is my collection of little bits and clips that I've written over time and have never stuck anywhere in a story or ever let grow into a story lol. They're random, in all categories and genres, and ranging in size sometimes from 400 words to maybe a couple thousand, who knows. But, if you'd like, here they are. Enjoy! Rating M just in case for the future
1. Chapter 1

"Are you kidding me?" Spencer asked in surprise. He couldn't stop his jaw from dropping a little. "I'm plenty athletic, Derek Morgan!"

Laughter filled the conference room. "Kid, it's nothing to be ashamed of. Physical fitness just isn't your forte." He teased him.

Snickering to herself, JJ leaned on the table and looked at Morgan. "Oh, Spence does physical fitness." She said. Ignoring Spencer, who was trying to climb over the table to get to her, she quickly said "He does yoga!"

The room was almost totally silent but for the sound of Spencer's backside connecting with his chair again and his forehead hitting the table. That was the last thing he'd wanted to tell his friends. The very last thing. This was something they'd never let him hear the end of. Any moment now they'd start teasing him. 5…4…3…2…1…

"Yoga?" Dave asked with just barely a hint of humor present. Most might have missed it. Spencer did not.

Keeping his forehead on the table, Spencer said "I was trying to improve my balance. It's helped, a little."

"That's not physical fitness." Morgan argued loudly. "That's just twisting and bending. It totally doesn't count."

Those words were enough to bring Spencer's head up off the table. "Excuse me?" His eyebrows shot up. "It's more than just bending and stretching, Morgan. Some of it is quite difficult."

"Psh. Right, kid. Anyone can do that twisty stuff."

For a single moment Spencer debated letting that one slide. But his irritation got the better of him. He rose to his feet and gestured at Morgan to do the same. "All right. You think it's so easy, come on then. Let's see if you can do it." Knowing Morgan wouldn't be able to resist, Spencer threw out the final taunt "Or are you afraid you'll be proven wrong?"

Morgan stood up and grinned at him. "Oh, it's on now, pretty boy. Hit me with your best shot."

The first thing Spencer did was remove his shoes and socks, putting the socks inside the shoes. Then he double checked to make sure his shirt was well tucked in. He tucked his tie in between the buttons of his shirt, hoping it would stay there. "Ok, let's start with something easy." The words were meant to be kind, a bit of a truce in the midst of this, but the scoffing sound Morgan made had Spencer's temper rising back up. "Fine. You want more than just beginner, Morgan? Watch me and see if you can do this."

Spencer let his temper lead him. First he went down to his hands and knees, making sure his wrists were underneath his shoulders and his knees directly under his hips. Before anyone could say anything, he curled his toes under and pushed back, raising his hips and straightening his legs while spreading out his fingers out and shifting his weight onto his hands, his backside pointing straight up. "Downward facing dog. Easy enough, Morgan." He spoke easily, breathing through his movement.

Now it was time to step it up. He walked his feet in closer to his hands. Then, bending one knee, he kicked up with the other leg, bringing his feet up over his head so that he was in a perfect handstand. He smiled, looking at an upside-down Morgan who was watching him with surprise. But Spencer wasn't done.

He lowered his feet back down, one at a time, waiting until both feet were on the ground to shift his weight from his hands to his forearms so that his forearms and palms were flat on the floor. His elbows were bent so that his upper arms were perpendicular to the floor. Then, once more, he walked his feet inward before bending one knee and kicking up with the opposite leg. Instead of a handstand, he was doing a forearm stand, his head curved so that he was staring at the floor.

He took a few breaths, never losing track of his breathing as he moved through the poses. _One more_ he thought to himself. _Let's see how easy he thinks this is._ Spencer lifted his head, bringing his feet down and close to his head as he went into a deep backbend. Still resting on his forearms, he now had his head up, looking forward, and his body bending backwards until he rested his feet on his head. "Scorpion." He told the room.

After another breath, he slowly brought himself out of the pose, carefully moving himself back until once again he was standing on his feet. With one hand he brushed his hair back while he smiled at Morgan. "Ok, big guy." He teased. "You said anyone can do it. Well, now it's your turn."


	2. Silent Night

All of them knew the truth of what was going on. They knew that, no matter how fast the ambulance drove, it would never make it in enough time to get their victim to the hospital. Even if it arrived right this minute, the chances of the elderly woman surviving were slim to none. But they couldn't admit that truth out loud. None of them could bear to tell her that she was dying and there was nothing they could do about it.

Spencer still knelt beside her, holding her hand as he had since they'd come on the scene. His other hand was over the wound in her chest. On the other side were Morgan and Emily, with Morgan covering the wound on her side and Emily stroking the grey hair back from the woman's face. Dave and Aaron were there as well, Aaron on the phone with the medics while Dave was on the phone with the local PD, trying to get someone out here.

The woman coughed, the sound mixing with a moan when she shifted. Emily stroked her face and shushed her. "Just breathe, ma'am. We're right here with you. Medics are on their way, you just hold on, ok?"

"Aileen." She coughed out. Blood spattered on her lips. "My names Aileen."

Squeezing her hand, Spencer smiled down at her. "Pleased to meet you, Aileen. My name's Spencer." He was so polite, so formal, as if they were meeting in her living room instead of this dirty alleyway. As if her life wasn't draining out underneath his hand. His calm seemed to help calm her, drawing her eyes to him. A small smile curved her lips. "You look just like my son once did." She told him. The words faded in and out, but they all heard them. "Such a handsome man." Her eyes fluttered closed, only blinking back open when Morgan called her name.

She looked at the three of them and in that look they saw that she knew. She knew she wasn't going to make it. "I wish…" A cough interrupted her words, wracking her body for a moment. When it faded, she squeezed Spencer's hand slightly. "I wish I could have made it to the show tonight. I was on my way to the tree decorating. I so love the carolers. It's always been my favorite part."

"What's your favorite song?" Emily asked her. She was trying to keep her talking, hoping to keep her alive for help to arrive, even knowing that it was a losing battle. There would be no help that would arrive in time for this poor woman.

Aileen smiled again. "Silent night." She wheezed out. Another cough came, bringing more blood from her mouth. "I wish I could have heard it one last time."

Looking down into her eyes, the group of profilers felt their hearts ache. Silent, they didn't know what to do for her. Didn't know how to help her. All except for one. Four eyes turned in shock when a surprisingly beautiful tenor started out soft, growing as it wove around them, filling the alleyway. "Silent night. Holy night. All is calm; all is right." Spencer looked right into Aileen's eyes as he sang the soft melody. She locked her gaze to him, her lips curved once more, joy lighting her eyes. "Round yon virgin mother and child. Holy infant so tender and mild. Sleep in heavenly peace. Sleep in heavenly peace."

The grip around Spencer's hand tightened as the last few notes faded away. Tears streamed from Aileen's eyes. "Thank you." She whispered to him. With those last words, that last breath, her body gave out, unable to handle the trauma any longer.

Releasing her hand, Spencer brought two fingers up to slide her eyes closed. "Sleep in heavenly peace, Aileen." He whispered to her.


	3. The Tin Man

"What about this one? When you guys were kids, who did you pretend to be?" Emily asked. Amusement rippled around the table. Morgan answered first, smiling at her. "That's easy. I pretended I was a cop like my dad. I always wanted to be like him."

"I wanted to be a famous soccer star." JJ said. She smiled widely. "That was my dream."

Garcia's answer made everyone laugh. "I wanted to be a tree." At the laughter and looks she received, she chuckled as well. "What? I was an imaginative kid!"

"I always wanted to grow up to be in media, actually." Dave answered next. "I'd drive my parents' crazy, walking around with a notepad and interviewing the family. I even made my own little paper in my room."

Surprising them, Aaron went next. "I always pretended to be superman. Normal, average in my day to day life, but then this strong, amazing guy who saved people. Undercover, of course."

"What about you, Reid?" Garcia looked over to where Spencer sat, quietly swirling his drink around his glass with his straw. "Who did you pretend to be?"

He didn't even look up. "Oh, no one." He mumbled. "I just, you know, read."

"Come on, Reid. Everyone pretended to be someone." Emily coaxed him. She was sitting beside him and nudged him with her elbow. "We all told ours. Even Garcia wanting to be a tree. What could be worse than that?"

"Come on!" "We told ours!" "It's only fair." The ladies chorused. The men at the table were quiet, watching Spencer curiously. Something about Spencer's posture said how uncomfortable he was with this. If they hadn't been surrounded by their co-workers, Morgan would have put a hand on the leg next to his to try and soothe.

Flushing, Spencer mumbled something so quietly that no one heard. "What was that?" JJ asked.

Just slightly louder, he repeated "The tin man."

That surprised them. It hadn't been what they were expecting at all. Garcia leaned on the table to look at him. "The tin man? Like, wizard of Oz?" When Spencer nodded, she asked "Why him?"

Surprising them again, Spencer picked up his drink, downing it in one swallow. "He didn't have a heart." He told the quiet table. "If you don't have a heart, you don't notice when people hurt you." Looking over at Morgan, he mumbled "Excuse me." And as soon as his best friend was out of the way, he scrambled out of the booth, leaving a pained silence in his wake.


	4. Fix This

Standing with his hands braced on the counter, Spencer tried to calm himself by controlling his breathing. He counted backwards from ten. He tried anything. None of it was working. Nothing was bringing the calm he sought. But the anger and pain were tapered down just enough that he hoped he might be able to control it. All that control was shot when he heard Morgan stumble his way into the kitchen. "God, pretty boy. Tell me you've got some damn aspirin here. And how the hell did I end up here?"

Anger like he had never known was boiling inside of Spencer. His hands gripped the counter tighter. There was the proof he needed that Morgan didn't remember anything of the night. He didn't even remember how he got to the apartment. But that didn't even take the edge off his anger. If anything, it made it worse. After the things he had done, he had the absolute _nerve_ to not even remember it?

"Reid?" Morgan's voice sounded concerned now. His footsteps stopped about a foot away from Spencer. "Are you ok? You're shaking, man."

"Am I ok?" The words snapped out before he could stop them. All control seemed to drain from him. Furious, he spun, pinning Morgan with a single glare. He watched the shock travel over Morgan's face, replaced by anger. Anger? What right did he have to anger? "You have the fucking nerve to ask if I'm ok?" Spencer hissed.

The anger vanished underneath more shock. Everyone knew that Spencer didn't swear. He had only done it around Morgan twice in the years they'd known one another. Only twice. But he couldn't control it now.

Morgan's red-rimmed eyes seemed locked on Spencer, barely even blinking. "What happened to you?" He croaked out.

A raspy, pain filled laugh left Spencer. "What happened? You want to know what happened to me?" His rage brought him forward. With jerky movements he reached down and grabbed Morgan's hand, balling the fingers up and bringing it up to his black eye, just barely touching the fist to his bruised skin. "Does this seem familiar to you?" He demanded. "Or maybe this." He moved Morgan's hand, pressing it against his throat where he knew there was a bruise in an almost perfect imprint of Morgan's hand.

His best friend—the hell if they were best friends anymore!—looked even more shocked than before. He jerked his hand back from Spencer's grip. "What? Kid, Reid…"

"Don't you fucking 'kid' me, Derek Morgan!"

Furious, Spencer spun and marched away from him, moving toward the living room. He heard Morgan's footsteps behind him but he didn't turn around. If he looked at him right now, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to stop himself from planting a fist in Morgan's face.

"Reid, tell me what happened. Jesus, I can't believe…I mean I would never…"

"Never what, Morgan? Never punch your best friend in the face? Never grab him by the neck and pin him to the wall?" Spencer shot back. He clenched his hands into fists, tipping his head down and squeezing his eyes shut. "Never throw your friend into the wall? Never drink so much that you can't even tell who's around you?"

"Oh my God, Reid, I…"

That had his head snapping up. He knew what Morgan was going to say and he didn't want to hear it. He cut him off before the apology could slip past his lips. "Don't you dare say it, Morgan. Don't you dare fucking say you're sorry to me and don't you fucking pull religion into this." He hissed. His entire body was trembling with suppressed emotion. "If you do, so help me, I don't know if I'll be able to stop myself from laying you out flat."

When Morgan stayed silent, just staring at him with so much pain in his eyes, Spencer tried to swallow down as much anger as he could. "There are only two things that are keeping me from kicking your ass and throwing you out of my house. One is my absolute certainty that you would never have done what you did if you hadn't been so inebriated that you couldn't even recognize that I wasn't this John fellow. Two is the fact that, no matter what you've done to me, you're my best friend. If I kicked you out after something obviously went down yesterday and then something happened to you out there, I'd never forgive myself."

His anger carried him toward Morgan, breaking down the usual reserves he held around himself. He got right up into the older man's face, not even caring about the wide-eyed look Morgan wore. "But you _will_ talk to me. You're going to tell me just who the hell John is and why you're so furious with him. I deserve to know what some asshole did that caused you to beat the ever loving hell out of me. If you can't do that, then walk right the hell out that front door and don't you ever dare to come back here again." He took a step back, still staring into Morgan's eyes, something he was rarely able to do with anyone. Anger gave him courage. "This is your one shot to fix this friendship, Morgan. Blow it and there's no coming back from it."


	5. HouseCM X-Over

**CM/House X-over!**

* * *

"So you just want me to do a differential diagnosis without even a chance to review the patient?" House demanded, glaring at the group of FBI agents in front of him. His cane moved again, tossing the ball up into the air and catching it on the handle. Aaron was slowly growing more and more annoyed with the doctor as time passed. He gritted his teeth and forced his tone level. "It really isn't asking that much. We have all her pertinent information here in the file. Her medical history as well as any background questions."

House scoffed at that and looked around the room at the four agents standing there. "You think that matters to me?" He looked to the back where Spencer stood quietly, staring at the walls and the items that adorned them. "You, gimpy one." He called out. All eyes drew to Spencer, down to his cane and then back over to House. Each agent showed surprise and a hint of anger. All except for Spencer. He raised an eyebrow and looked at House. "Yes?"

"You don't talk much, do you?"

A hint of a smile flitted at the kid's lips. "On occasion." His simple reply seemed to amuse House. He looked the kid up and down. "I didn't realize they let children into the FBI now. Or are you just an assistant?"

"He's Dr. Spencer Reid, actually." Dave interjected in annoyance. "And he's a damn good field agent. Now, about the patient…"

"A doctor, huh? Why are you working there and not here?"

"My doctorates are in mathematics, chemistry and engineering. I wasn't interested in medicine." The young man explained calmly. He didn't look anywhere near as perturbed as the rest of them. It intrigued House even more. "When did you graduate high school?" he demanded.

"Age twelve."

"A child prodigy, then. I bet you've just been spoiled your whole little life."

Spencer shrugged as if to say it didn't matter. "I've had beneficial moments in my life."

"Beneficial moments. Yeah. As if a child prodigy ever really has it easy. Your childhood probably sucked." House snorted at that while he put his ball onto his desk. "You talk like a dictionary. Anyone ever tell you that?"

This time it was amusement to grace the young doctor's face. "Frequently, actually. Though you haven't heard me ramble on about statistics."

Pressing his cane into the ground, House rose. "Thank God for small favors. So, shrimp, you're here to beg me to take this case. Why haven't you said a word? You always let everyone else take the lead and just stick to the background? Or were you some special weapon they were holding in reserve for me?" his tone suggested how ludicrous he found that idea.

Spencer used his cane to limp in front of Morgan, touching his arm as he passed in an appeal for silence. The same as the look he gave to his two senior agents. When he was in front of them he looked at House, cocking his head like he found something interesting to observe. "Why are you acting as if you visit your patients?" he returned.

That had House's eyebrows going up. "What makes you say I don't?"

"I'm a profiler. Profiling people is what I do. I observed you and your team interacting while we were waiting for this meeting. Though I couldn't hear any of you, body language speaks a lot. My guess would be that you never interact with a patient unless you grow extremely frustrated with their idiocy or there's something massively interesting about them." He straightened his head and smiled. "Just like you pay no attention to the background information we have anyways. If it's based off the patient's own words, you're not interested. But if it's a medical fact, you'll at least look at it before you decide if you'll dismiss it or not."

House gave him a grudging nod. He leaned against his desk, almost as if he was settling in, and his eyes lit up a little. "So you profile people, huh? You think you can tell me facts about me and my team? Seems like mumbo jumbo to me. Tell me something about myself that most people wouldn't know after a five minute meeting in which you _said nothing_."

"You're addicted to Vicodin."

That had all eyes in the room moving to House, who only smiled. "Cuddy could have told you that. She might have felt the need to warn you."

Spencer nodded. "She might have, if I'd seen her at all. But as you are the only person I have personally spoken with at this hospital, that's not a viable conclusion."

"Maybe it's because one addict recognizes another then." House smirked, eyeing Spencer's arms. "How long have you been clean?"

"I recently acquired my one year coin."

"Congratulations. Did you become addicted because of your intellect, your autism, or your childhood trauma?"

Three gasps sounded. Once again, Spencer calmed them with a look, reassuring them that he had this under control. Then he turned amused eyes back to House. "Actually, none of the above resulted in my addiction, though each one helped fuel it. I was kidnapped and drugged while on a case. It carried over afterwards. Does your addiction help more with the physical pain in your leg, or the mental pain at the people who caused it?"

"A little of both." Twirling his cane, House leveled the kid with one of his stares. "You're pretty annoying when you get that high and mighty tone. Does it ever bother your boyfriend?"

"Occasionally." Spencer shifted his weight, adjusting his leg as it started to ache. "He tends to glass over in his eyes when I go on too long but he lets me ramble often enough. When I go too far or too long or at the wrong moment, he reigns me in. Have you told the man you love that you love him?"

House sneered at him. "As if. Do I look like the happily ever after, white picket fence kind of guy to you?"

"Not particularly. But you do look like someone dedicated, not to his work, but to solving puzzles. I doubt you'd like our case at all." Spencer shrugged, as if to suggest it didn't matter. His eyes were calm when he turned to his friends. "He won't help us, don't bother. Let's go, guys. I'm sure someone else can tell us why her tongue is doing what it's doing."

The group looked hesitantly at him, but they followed him toward the door. They were almost out when House asked "What's her tongue doing?"

Spencer just glanced over his shoulder, one hand on the door. "Oh, nothing important. Don't worry. I'm sure we'll find someone to look at it"

The look House wore now could only be considered amused and frustrated. He stuck out his hand toward them. "Oh, just give me the damn file already. I just can't resist fascinating things happening to people's tongues. A personal weakness of mine, you know."

Limping forward, Spencer didn't hand him the file, but tossed it onto his desk. Then he smirked. "Any input you can provide, we'd appreciate."

"You know, you're an annoying shit who's too smart for his britches." House told him bluntly. A small half grin quirked his lips. "Come back and see me before you leave."

"You're a narcissistic ass who can't stand being wrong and lives for the next puzzle." Countered Spencer. Then he grinned. "I think I might."

"I'll hone my wit for the encounter."


	6. To Sleep

**Do not own the song/lyrics - or any of the characters, or any of that Blah blah. LoL. Glad you guys are enjoying the drabbles! Hope you like this one :)**

* * *

"Would you just be quiet and get over here already?" Spencer said with exasperation. He rolled his eyes and gestured to the spot beside him on the couch. When Morgan looked around the jet, Spencer had to resist a sigh of annoyance. "Seriously, Derek. Everyone is asleep and even if they weren't, I've told you before, this isn't a big deal. Now are you going to stay over there and fidget and stress or are you going to come over here and let yourself relax in a way you _know_ will help you?"

Morgan raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend, but he was getting up and moving toward the couch. "You know, you're awfully bossy sometimes, kid."

"Only when you're being ridiculous." He shot back. The love in his eyes softened the words. "There's no shame in letting your partner take care of you a little. You know it helps and I know it helps and you're in desperate need of something to calm you down. I don't see the big deal about it or this incessant need you have to keep this secret from the others. There is nothing for you to be ashamed of."

Even as he settled on the couch, Morgan was shrugging. "I'm not ashamed, baby boy. I just, I don't feel the need to provide anyone with reasons to make fun of me."

Spencer looked at him for a moment before giving in and sighing again. He brought a hand up, taking hold of Morgan's head and pulling on him until Morgan was lying in his lap. Then he let his fingers stroke over his bare scalp, lightly scratching at the skin in the way he knew his lover enjoyed. "If anyone makes fun of you for it, they'll have to answer to me. Now, quit being so ludicrous about this and hush."

He waited a moment to see if Morgan would say anything more. When Morgan only shifted, adjusting more in his lap and getting comfortable on the couch, Spencer nodded firmly. Then he sang in a low, warm tenor, his hand continuing its stroking.

_Dark is the night_

_I can weather the storm_

_Never say die_

_I've been down this road before_

_I'll never quit_

_I'll never lay down, mm_

_See I promised myself that I'd never let me down_

_[1] - I'll never give up_

_Never give in_

_Never let a ray of doubt slip in_

_And if I fall_

_I'll never fail_

_I'll just get up and try again_

_Never lose hope_

_Never lose faith_

_There's much too much at stake_

_Upon myself I must depend_

_I'm not looking for place or show_

_I'm gonna win_

_No stopping now_

_There's still a ways to go, oh_

_Someway, somehow_

_Whatever it takes, I know_

_I'll never quit, no no_

_I'll never go down, mm, mm_

_I'll make sure they remember my name_

_A hundred years from now_

_[Repeat 1]_

_When it's all said and done_

_My once in a lifetime will be back again_

_Now is the time_

_To take a stand_

_Here is my chance_

_That's why I'll..._

_[Repeat 1]_

_Mmm, I'm gonna win_

When he quietly let the last lyric fade away, Spencer felt the last of the tension drain from Morgan's body. He could feel the steady, even breathing that said he was sound asleep. Satisfied, Spencer bent and kissed his temple before settling back in his seat, his one hand still moving lightly over Morgan's scalp. That was when he noticed all the eyes that were watching him.

Like he'd told Morgan, there was nothing to be ashamed of with this. So he didn't flinch under their gazes, though he did flush a little, but he met their eyes and smiled lightly. Emily was turned around in her seat, her arm resting on the back and her chin on her arm. "Don't let us stop you." She said. "You've got a beautiful singing voice, Reid."

That compliment brought on the expected blush. "Thanks." Still flushing, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back, ignoring the chuckles from his friends. There was nothing to be ashamed of, but he couldn't help being just slightly embarrassed. Even so, he smiled to himself. It felt good to be able to help the one he loved. To know that there was something he could do for him that no one else could. If all it cost him was a little bit of embarrassment, well, he considered it worth it.


	7. Interesting Friends

"Hotch, I'm fine!" Reid exclaimed, leaning heavily on his cane. "I don't need to go home."

Aaron looked at him, raising an eyebrow. He didn't bother arguing with the young doctor. "Gather your bag, Reid. You're going home." Was all he said. He reclined back in his chair, looking briefly at the other agents at the table. "Your ride should be here any minute now."

That threw Spencer for a loop. His face scrunched up in confusion. "My ride?"

"Yes, your ride. I know you rode the train in this morning and we can't spare anyone to take you home right now, so I called the contact on your file. She arrived a few minutes ago. Garcia went down to escort her upstairs."

To everyone's surprise, Spencer's face went from confused to horrified. "Upstairs?" He squeaked out. "You called…but, I mean, I could have got home fine! Oh, man." His free hand came up, covering his bright red face. "Did you have to call _her_, Hotch?"

"Her, huh?" Morgan said teasingly. "Pretty boy, you keeping a little love on the sly?"

Before Spencer got a chance to answer, another voice spoke up, turning all their heads to the doorway. "Alas, Agent Morgan, despite my best efforts, Spencer still stubbornly keeps all his clothes on. Though there was that one time…"

The red on Spencer's cheeks was so bright it made him feel as if his face was on fire. "Gwendolyn!" He cut her off, moaning out her name.

As for the rest of the team, they were too struck by the beauty standing beside Garcia in the door to take advantage of the easy teasing that comment could have brought on. This woman, Gwendolyn, was _stunning_. She was shorter than Spencer by a half inch, maybe an inch. But she had the body of a model packed into the clothing of a Goth.

Black leather boots were strapped and buckled straight up to the bottom of her knees. She wore cutoff jean shorts, with the span of leg between shorts and boots covered with black stockings that had purple and silver bats on them. She had a trim waist and a full top that was accentuated by the purple and black corset she wore. Black lace trimmed the bottom of the corset shirt and purple straps held the top on over her shoulders. Fingerless gloves of the same deep, dark purple went up, ending at her elbows in a little black lace.

Her full lips were unpainted and curved into a wide, flirtatious smile. Her eyes were outlined in dark eyeliner and purple eye shadow, the striking face made even prettier by the waves of curly black hair that hung down to her elbows. All in all, she was gorgeous. The question was in everyone's mind: Who was she? And how on earth did she know Spencer?

The embarrassed doctor was rolling his eyes at her. "You just have to make an entrance, don't you?" He scolded. "You can't just be normal for five minutes?"

"Look who's talking about being normal, _Doctor_." Her reply was laced with laughter. She looked over at the table, winking at the people sitting there. "As if this man could ever claim to be normal, right?" The twinkle in her eyes set them all at ease, as did her genuine smile. She walked toward them, almost chuckling as they all stood automatically. She reached Dave first, extending a hand toward him. "My name is Gwen and it's a pleasure to finally meet you." She said happily. One by one she shook all their hands, smiling when they told her their names.

When they were done, she put her hands on her hips and threw a grin at Spencer before looking back at his friends. ""Please, feel free to call me Gwen, not Gwendolyn as himself over there insists on doing."

Spencer seemed resigned to her talking to them. "It is your name, Gwendolyn."

"I absolutely detest it and you know that, Spencer Reid, so don't be vexing." She shot back.

He rolled his eyes at her. "If you're done providing my friends with countless things to tease me about for the next few years, Gwendolyn, might we leave? If I'm to be stuck going home I'd at least like to get there soon."

"I swear, you are the rudest creature sometimes, Tesla." Gwen said, smirking at him. "What about me might cause them to tease you?" The innocent fluttering of her eyelashes didn't fool a one of them. Everyone was grinning at the two, enjoying their exchange. Even Aaron. It lightened his heart a little to see that Spencer had someone outside of work that he could be close with.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe it might have something to do with being picked up by a beautiful Gothic styled woman who instantly makes a comment about trying to get me out of my clothes and then proceeded to insinuate there was more to the one event than what actually happened. That's just for starters." He paused, shooting her a glare. "And quit calling me Tesla."

"The day you quit calling me Gwendolyn, dear heart, I might…think on stopping. Until then, alas, the name sticks."

Before Spencer could sputter at her, Gwen had turned back to the team. "I apologize for subjecting you to our bickering. It seems to be a favorite pastime of ours. But I'll just get Tesla here on out of your way and we'll quit interrupting your work. I'm sure all of you are very busy. It really was a pleasure to meet you all. I'd love to get to know you more sometime."

"Why don't we all get together after work for a big dinner?" Emily suggested quickly. She almost laughed out loud at the horrified expression on Spencer's face. Everyone took to the idea quickly, overriding any protest that Spencer might have made. He was stuck standing back behind them, sighing as Gwen set up a time and place for them to all get together that evening.

Beside him, Spencer felt Garcia move over. Then her hand was on his back, rubbing gently. "Don't worry, Reid. They won't embarrass you too much." She said soothingly. At his dry look she giggled. "Ok, so maybe they will. But it's all out of love."

"It's always out of love." He grumbled. But inside, he couldn't stop the warm glow he felt. He knew his family loved him, and that was what they were to him. Family. "To be honest, I'm more worried about what she'll say than them."

"That bad, huh?"

"You have no idea." He sighed again, giving up the grumbling to finally let his lips curve. "She's sure a unique one."

Gwen turned around then, beaming her full watt smile at him. It made him smile back at the woman who was like a sister and best friend all rolled into one. "Ready, Spencer?" she asked him.

He nodded, looking to the others to wave his goodbye. But he'd been standing for far too long and when he made to take a step, his knee almost gave out underneath him. Only Gwen's quick reflexes, darting forward and bracing his arm, saved him from making a fool and falling to the ground. Dammit! He _had_ pushed his leg too hard. It had been long enough that it didn't get weak like this anymore unless he did too much. But walking up and down those stairs had been stupid. He'd twisted a little too much on them and now he was paying for it.

Gwen's eyes were full of concern. "Boss man there said you needed a ride home. He didn't say you were hurt."

"It's nothing. I just taxed my knee a little."

She bit her full lip, looking him over with a practiced eye. Finally she straightened, sliding an arm around his waist, standing on the side opposite his cane. "Well, just wrap your arm around me and hold on. No one will realize I'm helping you walk. We'll have them thinking you're about to go get some lunch break nookie. You'll be the envy of every man we walk past and for all the people that check out your butt I'll make sure to wear my most suggestive look and enjoy their jealousy that I get to go home with you."

The laughter of his friends followed him out of the office and toward the bullpen. Spencer shook his head, leaning into her more than he liked. "You're going to be the death of me, Gwendolyn."

"Ah, sweetness, but what a way to die, yes?"


	8. Friends Helping Friends

"Whatever the Unsub is giving them, the hospitals haven't been able to figure out." Aaron said sourly. His hard eyes were locked on the board before them, which was covered with pictures of their victims. "Not a one of them have been able to ascertain what exactly the victims were dosed with so they can't find a way to counteract it." He turned his eyes toward his team. "Unless they figure it out, or our profile leads us to information that allows us to figure it out, these victims will keep getting returned to us and they'll keep dying."

"It's what he wants." Emily pointed out. All of them already knew that. "He's trying to show his control. His power."

Dave crossed his legs and sat back in his chair. "So we need to find a way to get a step ahead of him. We need to find out what exactly he's giving them."

"But none of the doctors here have been able to diagnose it. Not even the few specialists they've flown in." Morgan argued.

From his spot at the table, Spencer Reid looked around at his teammates as an idea began to form in his head. He didn't notice when the others stopped to watch him, all of them recognizing the face he wore when he was on to something. "I might know someone who could help us." Spencer said slowly. His eyes were distant, his brain running off in ways none of them ever understood but greatly appreciated more than once. "It'll just be a matter of getting him to agree."

"Agree?" Aaron raised one eyebrow at his youngest agent. "We'll order him here if absolutely necessary. This is a federal case. He can't refuse to assist us."

To their surprise, Spencer laughed. The distant look disappeared from his eyes, which now sparkled with good humor. "If I get him to come out, Hotch, I strongly suggest you don't try a speech like that on him. I assure you, it would _not_ go over well. He's quite a narcissist." He grinned wide enough to have the others smiling at him. Their youngest member always had that effect on them. "But, before we go that far, let's see if I can even get him to come."

Morgan looked over at his boyfriend, realization dawning on his face. "You're calling _him_?" he chortled. There was humor in his expression now too. "Oh, this should be interesting."

Spencer pulled the phone in the middle of the table just a little closer to himself. Before anyone could ask any questions, he dialed the number, leaving it on speaker so they all heard as it started to ring. No one answered and eventually the ringing stopped, starting to go to voicemail. Spencer smiled, shaking his head as he hung up and dialed again. He repeated this process twice more. Just as the others were about to ask him what was going on, someone on the phone finally answered.

"Whoever this is better have a damn good reason for calling me. You're interrupting the season finale of General Hospital and I don't take lightly to missing my shows." The angry male voice filled the room, surprising the others.

Chuckling, Spencer leaned on his elbows on the table. "Maybe you shouldn't ignore calls from cop stations." He shot back.

There was a moment of silence and then the voice again, still slightly annoyed but a little less so. "Ah, if it isn't my awkward little albino friend. To what do I owe the pleasure of your annoying presence, _Dr._ Reid? I assume you want something from me."

"Why on earth would I call you if I didn't want something?" Spencer fired back. "Most especially from a police station in a town I don't live in?"

"True. Well, then, let me save you the spiel. The answer is no. But nice chatting with you again. Please, come see me sometime. I sure have missed these pleasant little chats. Have a good day!"

While the others watched on, Spencer shook his head, still smiling. "I know better than to think you'll pass this up, House. You know I wouldn't call while working unless it was something _interesting_." He replied.

"You obviously mistake me for someone who cares, Dr. Spencer Reid. Use your big brain and figure it out yourself."

There was a click as the line hung up. Spencer and Morgan exchanged an amused glance while the others looked confused and slightly outraged. "That's the person you think will help us?" Dave asked incredulously. "I've heard of him. He's got quite a reputation in the medical field as being the best. But he's also got one for being one of the biggest jerks."

"I've heard of him too." Aaron said. He turned his hawk like gaze around the room and back to the board. "He might have been beneficial. It was a nice try, Reid. We'll see if we can get the court order demanding he come out here."

Spencer smiled at them. "That won't be necessary. Just wait."

"Wait?" Emily asked.

He nodded. "Yes. Probably another minute or so. Just long enough for it to be a commercial break." He shook his head one more time. "He does quite enjoy his shows."

In the silence that fell over the room at Spencer's statement, the phone rang. Spencer didn't hesitate to press the button to answer, though he said nothing. House's voice filled the room again. "How interesting?"

"We've got twelve victims here. Our Unsub has medical training and is using them to experiment on. He returns the victims to us alive, but whatever he does to them while he has them ends up killing them within seventy two hours of their return. The doctors think poison and they've flown in specialists from all over, but no one is able to figure out why these people are dying or how to stop it."

"And you want me to come and clean up your little mess there? Can't you just catch your baddy and lock him away?"

Morgan leaned toward the table, smirking slightly. "That's what we're trying to do. But right now his cycle has him catching two victims, experimenting for a week and then dropping them off at various locations before he uses their own cell phones to call the ambulance. Right now he's due to return two more victims by late tomorrow night. Even if we caught him tonight we still need to try and save the victims."

A snort echoed around them. "Oh, I should have figured muscles would be there. Kick down any good doors lately, Morgan?"

"I can come kick down yours if you want."

"That would mean you and the baby genius would actually have to come out here to see me. Seeing as it's been over six months since you've graced my doorstep, I don't see that opportunity presenting itself any time soon. Especially since I have no intention of coming out there to assist in your little profiling games."

A hard look crossed their team leader's face and Spencer hurried to step in before Aaron said anything. "You won't be able to pass this up, House. Trust me. I'll fax the files over; you take a look and tell me you won't take this." While he spoke, Spencer wrote down a number, handing it over to Morgan who instantly went to go fax the files. "Morgan's sending them right now. I'll have Garcia set up a flight for you and fax that information over as well."

"I never said I was coming."

"I'll see you tonight, House. I'll send someone to pick you and your team up from the airport and bring you to the station."

"Listen here. Did you forget the English language since I last spoke with you? I. Am. Not. Coming."

With a huge grin, Spencer said "See you tonight, House!" and then he pressed the button to end the call.


	9. Interesting Friends 2

**I'm so glad all of you are enjoying this! Wow, such great responses lol. I am really, really happy to be back here :D Anyways, this drabble is for those of you that wanted to know more about Spencer and Gwen :D Here's another section from what I, at one point, was going to make as a story. Sigh, it never happened, but it left me these random scenes. This one is later in the day after my earlier Spencer?Gwen scene! :D So, hope you like it!**

* * *

A disgruntled Spencer took his seat at the table, using another chair to prop his legs up on like he was ordered to do. Only when he was situated did Gwen give a satisfied nod. He couldn't help crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child. "Why can't I help?" he whined.

Gwen leaned in and tweaked his nose before disappearing behind the counter. "You'd only be in the way!" she called back to him. "You can barely even walk. I should have thought of that before setting this up!"

"I'm not a child!" Spencer shouted back to her. When she laughed, he stuck his tongue out in her general direction just as the door to the diner opened. Emily walked in first, a laugh already on her lips. "Very mature looking, Dr. Reid." She teased him. Right on her heels was Dave, then Morgan and Hotch.

Flushing, Spencer started to shift his legs off the chair. "Please, have a seat." He said, gesturing to the open chairs. There were plenty for everyone to sit in but he didn't want to take up another chair around the large table with his legs. It made him feel silly.

Unfortunately, Gwen chose that moment to come out with some cups and a carafe of coffee. "Spencer Reid, put your legs back up on that chair!" She snapped. Her voice was stern but her eyes were laughing when she set the cups in the middle of the table, turning one over and putting it in front of Spencer. "Please, everyone, help yourself if you want coffee. If not, I've got plenty else I can bring out." She told them all while she poured Spencer's coffee.

Once she was done, she set the carafe in the center, pulled over the sugar dish and started to add sugar to Spencer's cup while she flashed her grin at the others. "Dinner will be served shortly. Tonight on the menu I was in a mood so I made _Arrosto Morto con Aglio e Ramerino_."

It didn't escape her notice that Dave lit up a little at that one. She flashed him a grin that he easily returned. "I haven't had that in years." He said happily.

Gwen chuckled. "That's right, you're Italian. Ah, well, you should enjoy the night because that's the mood I've been in. I have a great bottle of wine breathing to go with dinner and I'll bring it out in about a half an hour. I also have some bruschetta and _pinzimonio_ that I'll serve momentarily. We can snack on those while we wait. Now, enjoy your drinks and if anyone wants anything else before the wine gets here, please, feel free to let me know when I come back out."

The minute she was in the kitchen again, all eyes turned to Spencer. "She owns this place?" Aaron asked, one eyebrow quirked up, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Spencer sighed. Damn Gwen for leaving him to answer all the questions. He shifted uncomfortably, deliberately keeping his aching leg down despite her order to put it on the chair. "Yeah, she owns it. And before you ask the next question, she's twenty eight years old and she inherited this place ten years ago when her parents passed away. Her aunt helped her run it for two years and then she took over. She employs a full time staff to waitress and run the register and such, but she's the resident cook. Did I cover everything?"

"Where'd you meet her?"

"Here, the first day I came to Quantico. Gideon took me here." A small smile lit Spencer's face as he remembered that first meeting. "She saw me come in and didn't allow us a chance to order. She came to the table and I thought she was our waitress at first. Then she was telling me that she was the chef and what she was going to make me to eat. I didn't get to pick." He paused, allowing the others to laugh.

When the laughter broke, Gwen came in carrying the appetizers and picked up the story. "I told the skinny boy he was to come into my restaurant no less than twice a week and allow me to feed him, free of charge. I said I couldn't charge someone who was obviously starving. We've been the best of friends ever since then." She unloaded her tray and shot a blatantly sexual look at Spencer. "Though we could have been sooo much more if he'd just stop resisting me."

Spencer leaned in and stole a piece of the bread. "I'm not taking my clothes off, Gwendolyn."

"Wouldn't be the first time I've seen you nude, Spencer."

He almost choked on his bread as he glared up at her and his friends let out loud laughter. "I was sick!" he defended himself. "You took advantage of me!"

Stealing a seat beside him, she ran a hand down his arm and practically purred. "You loved it, sweetness. It's ok to admit it."

"If throwing objects and screaming at you is loving it, then yes, I absolutely _adored_ it."

His scathing response had the laughter continuing. None of them had heard Spencer in a sarcastic mood before. With a roll of his eyes, Spencer tried to hurry and defend himself. "It's not what you think, guys. Contrary to what she may try to insinuate, we have never, well…"

"Done the horizontal tango?" Gwen supplied. "Burned up the sheets? Screwed? Banged? Popped the cork?"

"Gwendolyn!"

"What? Just cause you're too shy to say it doesn't mean I am." Relenting, she looked to the group of laughing agents. "He's telling the truth, though. I've seen him naked, yes. And God help me, I almost fainted. Those granny clothes are a cover, let me tell you. Mm…."

Spencer pinched her arm, making her laugh and shove at him. "Anyways! He's never fallen for any of my nefarious schemes, though I do hold out hope that one day I will out smart him."

"In your dreams."

Gwen's face grew a little more devilish. "Ah, my dreams. Do we really want to get into those in mixed company, Tesla? Come, now."

It was Dave who decided to save his blushing coworker. Controlling his laughter, he asked Gwen "Why do you call him Tesla?"

Shrugging, Gwen rose, moving over by Spencer's legs. Without warning she bent and lifted them, putting them back in the chair. She gave him a stern look, daring him to test her. Satisfied he wouldn't she took her seat again and looked at Dave, who was now trying to smother a new wave of laughter. "Aside from the obvious connections to the famous Tesla? Well…You ever watch that Sci-Fi show Sanctuary?" she asked them all. Morgan and Emily nodded, but Aaron and Dave shook their heads.

Gwen leaned forward, stealing a piece of bread. "Well, it's this cool science fiction show all about abnormal beings. Like, lizard people and people who fly and all that sci-fi stuff. Kind of mutant people. Anyways, there's a group on the show called the five. They drank source blood, vampire blood, and it gave them special powers. The main character, Magnus, was granted longevity. Another, the ability to teleport. But there's a guy on the show named Nicola Tesla. Mm, mm. Delicious man. Half vampire. The source blood made his half vampire genetics come out."

Her explanation seemed to be confusing them all and irritating Spencer. He bent, resting his forehead against the table, ignoring the snickers around him. Gwen ruffled his hair before continuing. "Anyways, Tesla is like a scientific genius. Really smart. A little more suave than my buddy here, with a better fashion sense, but he gets that same geeky quality Spencer does when he gets going on something he knows. I teased him that they were alike and it offended him, so I call him Tesla."

"It offends me because the character is a blatant rip off of the _real_ Tesla." Spencer said, not bothering to lift his head. "Who was one of the most brilliant minds the world has ever seen. He…"

Gwen lifted his head, shoving a piece of bread in his mouth, sending more gales of laughter around the table. "Eat up, skinny boy."


	10. AU

_**AN: This is something I found on my computer that I had started to write a while ago. Now, this is just one part of what I found, but I thought I'd post it here and get an opinion on it. It's the start to an AU story - there would be some things in Spencer's past that are going to be changed around in an obvious sort of way. I don't want to say much and spoil it. Basically, this is what I'm asking. I want to know if any of you would like to see this short turn into a long (and trust me, there's quite a, uh, BIG secret in his past) once I'm done with "Comfort" - and if you do, should it be slash or not or should it have any form of romance at all? Let me know, folks. And thank you all again for your great reviews so far on everything! You guys are wonderful!**  
_

* * *

_Dear Sparrow,_

_I like to believe that you would have been so proud of me the other day. Monday, I stood before a group of people and I was sworn in as an official agent of the FBI. I am now officially SA Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU. Can you believe it? Who would've ever thought that I, little Spencer, would one day become a part of the FBI, let alone have the privilege to serve underneath one of the greatest minds in the BAU – Jason Gideon. As I wrote you before, this man has worked hard to help me get to where I am. Without him, I might still be wandering through college, adding yet another degree to my name but doing nothing with them. Now, I will do good with what I've learned._

_The only damper to the day was my wish that you could have been here. It was too difficult for Mother to show and that I understand. I don't condemn her for that. Where she is at is the best place for her and bringing her here would only have been an unneeded disruption to a routine that would only hurt her to deviate from. But as I looked out into the audience, I found myself wishing to see your face. To see that little smile of yours, or the way your eyes would be alight with pride. I know that, in spirit, you were with me. Yet I'm selfish enough to wish for more._

_However, I am pragmatic enough to accept that which cannot be. You could not be here and that is the simple fact. So here I sit, writing this letter, telling you everything I wish you could have seen. You would have laughed at me when I walked up when my name was called. Would you believe I stumbled slightly over my own feet? Then again, maybe that's not that surprising. I'm just lucky I didn't manage to actually fall on my face._

_After the ceremony, Gideon took me to his place for a celebratory dinner. We spent the night eating and talking and playing chess before he drove me back to my apartment. I'm glad that I made the decision to trust this man. You know how hard that was for me. Trust is an issue I struggle with daily. To join a team like this, where my life will occasionally be in the hands of others, is a big step for me. Gideon says I'm making great progress in my healing. Telling him the truth of my past, the unvarnished truth, was harder than I had thought it would be. It was strangely cathartic, however. So now there are two in the Bureau that know the truth – and both have agreed with me that it is my right to keep it that way. No one else need know._

_I know you would shake your head at me over that if you were here. I don't think that they need to know the truth. Who I was helped shape me into who I am, yes, but it does not define me. And when I tell people, when they find out, that is exactly what happens. The truth begins to define me in their minds so that they cannot look at me without seeing what they now know. Here in this job I start my adult life, my career, and I refuse to have it tainted by the past. I am who I have made myself, not who I was forced to be. I am what I have done, not what has been done to me._

_Let me stop myself now. This letter was not meant to turn depressing. Let me draw us back to the topic at hand. Allow me to tell you about when I first met the other members of the team. I do believe I was not quite what they were expecting to gain to the team and my reputation was already preceding me. Youngest ever agent to be let into the FBI, with exceptions made to allow me in the field, barely able to make a shot, yet with one of the 'brightest minds'—they label me this, I do not call myself that—to grace the Bureau. Quite an interesting way to start introductions, wouldn't you say? Yet, I think there couldn't have been a better way to be introduced. In a way, I sort of proved my worth. An initiation of sorts…_

CMCM

Nerves ate away at Spencer's insides. He really, really hated meeting new people. It was something he never did very well at. Yet it was something he was definitely going to have to get used to in this new job. But meeting _these_ people was so much more important than meeting anyone else. These people were going to be working with him day in and day out. They were going to be a team and therefore, their opinions and reactions mattered so much more to Spencer than anyone else. Because of that, he couldn't seem to hold still as he rode to the Bureau in the passenger's seat of Jason Gideon's car. The whole time he rode, he was clasping and unclasping his hands in his lap, a sort of nervous twitch.

"You know, it's a normal sensation, to be afraid of meeting new people, most especially in a job setting." Jason said conversationally. His voice was that steady, calm tone that he always seemed to maintain, no matter what topic they were discussing. "But you have to be careful not to let it deteriorate into a full social phobia."

Spencer chewed on his lip and clasped his hands together in an effort to still them. "Anthropophobia, also known as social phobia or interpersonal relation phobia, is a pathological fear of people or human company." He rattled off the facts as they jumped into his head, another habit of his when nervous. "I wouldn't go so far as to classify my problems as a phobia. Though it is above and beyond the standard nerves one might experience in this situation, I do not believe my fears are quite unjustified."

"I'd have to agree with you. It's not quite a phobia. Not yet." Turning the wheel, Jason pulled the car into a parking spot. He shut off the engine and turned his head to look at Spencer. "With awareness and willingness to work at it, I think that we can keep it from growing into a phobia. I simply wanted to make sure you were aware. I have every faith that this will go fine, Spencer. I brought you onto this team because I believe you're going to be an asset to the team. Remember that, when you get nervous in there. All of this aside, I have faith in you."

Strangely enough, that did help to settle the nerves in his stomach somewhat. There hadn't been many times in his life that he could recall that someone had faith in him and actually sounded as if they meant it. "Thank you."

The two were quiet when they made their way inside and as they rode the elevator up to the BAU. Spencer felt his nerves growing more and more the closer that they got. He reminded himself, over and over, that he was not alone here and things were going to be fine. _Gideon is right here with you. He's an intelligent man and a brilliant profiler. If he sees something in you that's worthy of this job then obviously there is something there, whether you yourself see it or not. The rest of the team is going to realize that as well. This is going to be _fine_._

The bolstering words helped him carrying himself into the BAU and through the bullpen. Jason lifted a hand to indicate a conference room that sat above the bullpen. There was a group of people in there that appeared to be looking at something. "Looks like a case came in while I was gone." Jason told him. "What a way to be welcomed to the BAU. Come on, Spencer. Let's go see what they've got."

Spencer followed behind Jason as they walked up the ramp and over toward the room. Yet, as he walked, Spencer found his eyes drifting away from the people ahead of them and to a board that stood in the room. Papers with long series of numbers were hanging up. When he reached the door, Spencer didn't even notice the eyes that turned toward them. His attention was focused solely on the board. He only vaguely heard Jason's voice saying to the room "Everyone, I'd like you to meet Dr. Spencer Reid, our newest member."

"Welcome to the team." A woman said from nearby. She stuck her hand out in front of him; Spencer didn't even see. He furrowed his brows as a pattern started to emerge in the numbers.

The room was watching him now as his focus was drawn to the set of numbers. "What are those?" Jason asked them, smothering a smile.

"We're not entirely sure. There's been a page with the numbers at each crime scene. So far, no one's been able to make any sense of them." Someone answered.

As he moved toward the board, Spencer spoke in an almost absent fashion. "There's a pattern in the numbers."

"A pattern?"

He didn't even look to see who said that. He just nodded, walking right up to the board, looking from one sheet to the next. "Yes. A rather simplistic one, actually. The author used a substitution cipher."

"And what's a substitution cipher?" A man's voice asked.

Spencer moved from one paper to the next, shifting himself so that he stood to better see. His eyes never moved from the pages as he answered. "In cryptography, a substitution cipher is a method of encryption by which units of plaintext are replaced with ciphertext, according to a regular system; the 'units' may be single letters, pairs of letters, triplets of letters. The receiver deciphers the text by performing an inverse substitution."

This time he at least recognized the voice talking to him as belonging to Jason. "Can you decipher it, Spencer?"

He was already reaching for the pen and eraser at the bottom of the board. Without thought he erased the numbers people had written beside the printouts—their obvious attempt at figuring out what it was. Then he started to write. It only took him a moment to figure out the substitution that was used and then he was putting the translation on the board for them all to see. When he was done, he stepped back and looked it over one last time before nodding.

With the finish of his work, reality intruded once more for Spencer. He flushed slightly as he turned around and found everyone in the room staring at him. Jason was watching him with amusement while the others were watching him with various emotions playing over their faces. It was a pretty, blond-haired woman who broke the silence by smiling at him and saying "Welcome to the team, Dr. Reid." She said in a teasing sort of way. "I'm JJ, the media liaison for the team. It's a pleasure to have you here, Dr. Reid. I've heard great things about you already. It's good to see they're true."

He made himself shake her hand, despite his discomfort at the gesture. The next person to move forward was a solidly built dark-skinned main who had a broad grin that almost instantly worked to set Spencer ease some. He shook his hand as well, telling him "I'm Morgan. Welcome aboard, kid."

Kid? Spencer didn't get a chance to comment on that before he was being introduced to the next person. This man was more serious looking and his handshake was firm. "I'm Aaron Hotchner. Welcome to the BAU. Hell of a way to start your first day but, as you see, we have a case."

"So, our Unsub's quoting poetry at us now?" Morgan asked with a gesture toward the board.

And just like that, Spencer found himself brought not only into the middle of the team, but into the middle of their work as well. Without any more qualms or fuss, he was brought to the table and started his job. Maybe it was that they were used to working with people they didn't know, as they traveled to so many different places for their jobs. Or maybe it was just something about this group of people. But not a one of them made him feel like an outsider. They didn't judge him, or try to profile him too obviously. They took what he said at face value and attributed it the same respect they might have anyone else's. Spencer found his nerves gone; forgotten, under the press of information and facts and statistics. At one point, as everyone sat and bounced ideas off one another, and someone brought coffee over to the table, setting cups in front of everyone, Spencer couldn't help but smile to himself. It seemed like, for the first time, he'd found somewhere he fit in.

CMCM

_…and just like that, they've brought me into their group. Can you believe it? Never have I been so easily accepted somewhere as I have been here. Oh, I don't doubt that I have quite a ways to go before I prove myself to them. And the capability to work with one another is only one aspect of our job, albeit an important one. Trust will take time to build and I can both understand and respect that. I get the impression that it will be harder to earn with some than with others._

_Aaron Hotchner—or Hotch, as I was told to call him—seems like a stern individual, yet he does know how to smile. He seems to be a natural at profiling, almost as if it has become second nature to him over the years. He's got quite a reputation himself at the Bureau. I found him to be a little intimidating, yet friendly still._

_Derek Morgan—talk about an interesting individual. Most definitely an alpha male and physical appearance suggests he was or is a jock of some sort. Honestly, he reminds of guys on the football team. Not a great thought to have, I know. However, he doesn't act like them in any way. He's friendly, good humored, pretty patient in explaining random things, and easy to get along with. He has this tendency to call me kid, more so now that he's seen it fluster me. He likes to tease, I've noticed, with everyone. So the fact that he teases me indicates he's willing to accept me into the team for the moment. I have a feeling he'll work with me, but withhold full trust until I've proven myself to him. That's fine. I really wouldn't expect any less._

_I'd continue on, but my eyes are starting to droop and I feel myself falling asleep as I sit here and write. Though this letter is shorter than most, I guarantee that the next will be longer._

_Until next time, know that, as always, I love you and you are always in my thoughts._

_Your brother,_

_Spencer_


	11. Cordelia

**So someone suggested that I just go ahead and put up anything that's on my computer, basically. LoL Now that's a LOT of random things. Things I don't even know if I'll ever finish. But if y'all want them, I'll put them up :) So here's another completely random one that I started and never finished. It says the last time I updated it was seven months ago lol! Anywho, here you go. Glad all of you are enjoying this!**

* * *

"Agent Morgan?" A nervous looking gentleman stopped by the edge of the conference room, looking in to where Morgan and the team were discussing the closing details of their last case. Morgan's head tipped up at the sound of his name and he turned his attention to the doorway. "Yes?" He vaguely recognized the man as someone who worked down in the front lobby. "Can I help you?"

"Um, you have a visitor, Agent Morgan. Security brought her up. They…they're waiting out here in the bullpen."

A visitor? Morgan looked at the team, who were smiling at him. "Her, huh?" Emily couldn't help but tease him.

The man looked a little more nervous. "A…a child, Sir." He cut in before anyone else could tease. That drew all eyes to him. The man looked extremely shaken by something. They found out why just a second later. "She says her name is Cordelia. Cordelia Reid. She told us you work with her Daddy."

For one split second the entire team froze. Cordelia _Reid_? Daddy? Those words circled in the minds of everyone present. Then, Morgan shot from his chair, his brain and body finally connecting once more. He was out the door, almost pushing past the man, with the entire team on his tail. When he stepped out, his eyes traveled to the bullpen, seeking out the child. It didn't take him but a moment to find her. When he caught sight of her—this girl that looked no more than five—she looked up at the same time, her eyes seeming to lock right onto him. In that look, Morgan saw the answer to his first question. Those eyes staring at him, the mouth, the hair…she looked just like Spencer.

His shock doubled when her eyes widened at the sight of him and she ripped away from the security guard holding her hand. Quick as a flash she was racing up the ramp and straight to him. Morgan acted on instinct, dropping down in just enough time to catch her as she flung herself at him. The tears started almost instantly. Morgan could think of nothing to do but close his arms around the child and hold her tightly to him.

Rising to his feet and holding her close, he looked with wide eyes at the others who were staring at him with just as much shock. Aaron was the one to step up and take control of the situation. "Morgan, bring her in here. Prentiss, call Reid's apartment. If he doesn't answer, get Garcia to put a trace on his phone. If we get no idea of his location, I want units to be deployed to his apartment to secure the area and hold it until we arrive, but only if we can't reach him."

Everyone snapped into action. Following his Unit chief, Morgan headed to the conference room, rubbing the small trembling back under his hand. When he got inside, he sat in one of the chairs, shifting the little girl's legs so that she was cradled on his lap. She refused to unwrap her arms from him, though. Her face was buried against his neck as she gave these little sobs that gripped at all their hearts.

Aaron took a few steps forward, crouching down beside Morgan's chair so that he could look the child in the face. "Cordelia?" He kept his voice gentle, as if he was speaking to his son. "My name is Agent Hotchner."

"I k-k-know." The girl hiccupped out. She tipped her head, peeking out eyes that were swimming with tears; her cheeks were shining. "Your n-name is Aaron H-Hotchner. You w-w-work with D-Daddy."

Somehow, Aaron managed to keep himself controlled. "Is your Daddy's name Spencer?"

She nodded again and took a deep breath, controlling her sobs even as the tears silently ran down her cheeks. "SSA Dr. Spencer Reid with the BAU at the FBI in Quantico, Virginia." She recited the words that had obviously been taught to her. The clarity with which she said them surprised the others, though. They all found themselves wondering what her age was and what her intelligence was. A child of Spencer's had a high chance of being extremely intelligent.

Aaron smiled at her, hoping to reassure her. "That's right. Do you think you could tell us what's going on, Cordelia? Where's your Daddy at?"

The tears suddenly seemed to come faster. Her bottom lip trembled. "Daddy and Uncle Gideon and me were at Daddy's apartment. Daddy and I were getting dressed and Uncle Gideon was waiting. We heard a real loud crash." Her body quivered and she leaned further in to Morgan, who responded by holding her a little tighter. He couldn't speak; could do nothing but listen to this bright little child tell them all things they wished they didn't have to hear. "Daddy told me to hide. He gave me my fanny pack and said that, if anything bad happened, I knew what to do."

Removing one arm from Morgan's neck, she reached into the little fanny pack they were all just now noticing. From there, she pulled an envelope, holding it out to Morgan. "Daddy and Uncle Gideon told me if anything ever happened, that I was to go see SSA Derek Morgan and the rest of Daddy's team and give you this letter." When Morgan took it from her, she wound her arm back around his neck, clinging again. The tears came faster and her voice trembled a little. "I heard gunshots. Three. Then, then Daddy was yelling, telling them we were alone."

The whole room was silent. All eyes were locked onto the child telling them a tale of horror.

Cordelia closed her eyes tightly. "I heard Daddy talking. 'I knew you were coming so I snuck her out. She's not here. You won't ever lay a hand on her.' Then the, the bad man, he said 'You'll tell us where she is' and Daddy said 'Never'. There were mean sounds and Daddy made a funny noise and then they were quiet. I waited and waited and then I snuck out the fire escape, just like Daddy showed me once, and I went and got on the bus with the bus pass Daddy keeps in my fanny pack. And, and I rode here."

From the doorway there was a soft little gasp as Garcia came in and heard the child's words. Morgan looked over at her and then down at the child in his lap. "Princess, I want you to go with Miss Garcia for a little bit." Morgan told Cordelia gently. The girl seemed reluctant to leave him, but they needed to work and the last thing that Cordelia needed was to see any of this. "There are some things I need to take care of and little girls don't need to see those things, ok? But Miss Garcia will take good care of you."

Cordelia looked at his face a minute before giving a sigh. "You have to do this to find my Daddy?"

"That's right."

"Ok." Cordelia let herself be lowered to the ground. Looking to Garcia, she managed a small smile as she took the offered hand. "My Daddy says you're like my Aunty Penelope, sort of. Can I call you Aunty Penny? Daddy says you're the brightest ray of sunshine in the whole wide BAU." And so the stream of conversation went as she was led from the room.


	12. Idiots

**This one is SUPER OLD and I'm not sure how great it is lol but it's a long one! Hope you guys enjoy. There is slash overtones to this - Spencer's small thoughts about caring for Morgan - but no actual slash moments, so to speak. Even the scene at the end can be viewed as brotherly/friendly. So, yeah, anyways... :D**

**To anyone that's reading "Comfort", I hit a bit of a snag as my hands are acting up slightly, so I'm writing in short bursts :D But I'm still writing! So, don't worry, it should be updated by tomorrow night (my time) at the latest! The rest of you, I'm loving, loving the reviews! I love checking my email and seeing the emails for reviews and I always read them quickly. I'm just, ahem, horrible at responding :/ I'm sorry. I always mean to and then, well, I get distracted. That happens a lot. I tend to be easily distracted :D But know that I do read them and they're a great inspiration! I love them! :D Thank you all sooooooo much you are wonderful!**

* * *

"Would you quit your damn muttering, Reid?" Morgan snapped angrily. "You're giving me a migraine over here!"

The sharp retort that wanted to rise to Spencer's lips was choked down at the look on Morgan's face. Instead he found himself shuffling his feet a little and turning toward the evidence board. Tempers were running high in the station that night between everyone. A week they'd been here and they were no closer to catching their Unsub than they'd been days ago.

Spencer looked at the messed up board in front of him to distract himself from the hurt and annoyance he was currently feeling with his best friend. All he'd been doing was venting some frustration at the way the cops had messed with his board.

He hadn't realized how loud he'd been venting, true. Or, really, that he'd been saying it out loud at all. So, he could see how it was something that had been getting on Morgan's nerves. But didn't anyone understand the importance of having the correct information in the correct spot?

What made it worse was that it wasn't the main evidence board that had been messed with. Oh no, it had been _his_. The spot where he'd been working on the geographical profile. Someone had moved some of the little things he'd tacked up to help his brain think. Moved them out of the place they were supposed to be. Which, of course, threw off the whole scheme of things and messed with his time and thinking processes.

Well, this distraction wasn't working well. Instead of calming down he found himself getting more and more annoyed. Not just with Morgan, now, but with whoever had done this. Not that he had any real doubts about it. His eyes slid unconsciously across the room and toward the desk where Detective Jameson and his partner Curtis were sitting, looking innocently at files in their hands. Spencer could see the corners of their mouths quirked, though.

Imbeciles.

They'd been annoying him almost from the instant the team had arrived. He'd recognized the look in their eyes when Hotch had introduced him. By now Spencer was well used to the surprise that he received when anyone introduced him as Dr. Reid. Even though he knew the others did it to try and help him get the respect they felt he deserved, sometimes he wished they wouldn't. It just made him stand out even more than he already did. Not only a young, scrawny, geeky looking agent in sweater vests, but a genius as well? That was like painting a target on his back.

Well, there was no point in moaning about it. The only thing that was going to do for him was to get yet another person irritated with him.

Turning his back on his friend, Spencer stepped up to the board and tried to start putting pieces back where they belonged. Why couldn't people just leave him alone? Why on earth did he always have to surround himself by these alpha males that felt the need to dominate every little person around them?

"What're you doing, kid?"

Built up into a fine temper by then, Spencer had to work at keeping his tone level. Oh, so _now_ Morgan wanted to talk to him? Not before, when he was really irritated, but now? "Nothing, Morgan." There, that was safe. Maybe then Morgan could just leave him alone and he could go back to putting his markers where they were supposed to be…

"Doesn't look like nothing."

….and apparently, he wasn't going to have that kind of luck.

Sighing, Spencer closed his eyes for a moment and counted to ten. When he felt like he finally had patience he responded. "I'm just fixing some things." Now, wasn't that enough? Man, when he was done with this he was going to find the nearest pot of coffee and drink the entire thing. In one sitting. Maybe then he'd feel a little more alert, a little less tired, and his emotions wouldn't be trying to run away with him.

"But why are you rearranging them?" Morgan's voice was closer now. Spencer could actually feel the heat from the other man's body as he stepped up beside him. He forced himself to ignore the small thrill he felt. Now was not the time to let his attraction to the other man come out. But it was difficult when Morgan shifted a little closer. "And what's this? I thought you said before that these ones were for victims?" He pointed to one marker that, indeed, was supposed to represent a victim. It was placed off in the middle of a street that had no correlation with anything involving their case.

Inside his own mind, Spencer seethed. On the outside, he pulled the marker out and stuck it back where it was supposed to go. Maybe a little more forcefully than normal, but a guy couldn't be expected to control everything.

At least Morgan wasn't trying to help him put them back where they belonged. The entire team had learned a long time ago that Reid was touchy about people messing with his maps on his board. This was his area of expertise. Though others tried to help, they had a tendency to throw off his thought process when they touched things. So, instead of trying to just do what they were thinking, they'd come and bounce the idea they had off of him and he'd incorporate it into his system. It worked for the team. That was why they gave him his own board when they worked instead of making him share.

A hand on his arm stopped Spencer before he reached for another piece. He would have snapped this time, finally letting a little of his temper out, but he knew his teammate and best friend well. There was something in Morgan's grip on his arm that told him to keep his cool. It didn't mean he could bring himself to turn and look at him, though.

For a moment there was silence. Then Morgan asked him "Did someone on the team play a joke on you?"

The both of them knew the answer to that. No one on the team would have done something like this as a joke. Not because they were afraid of what would happen, but because they were all a little protective of him and they didn't typically do things to irritate him if they could help it. Not only that, but the jokes they all did play on one another tended to be almost juvenile. Maybe it was because their lives were so harsh and serious; they saw so much pain and death that childish jokes were one of the perfect pressure releases.

"No." Spencer finally said. He sighed, letting his tension drain from him. He just wasn't good at being mad. Most especially at Morgan. His attention was now turned toward trying to keep Morgan from pursuing this. Out of all of them, Morgan was the most protective. If he found out that it was those two knucklehead officers who'd messed not only with his board, but with him from the get-go, he'd be pissed. Beyond pissed, even. "Everything is fine, Morgan. Let it go."

"What happened?"

This time he did turn to look. The expression on Morgan's face had Spencer wanting to sigh. Yeah, this was potentially a crappy situation in the making. "I told you, everything is fine."

"Reid…"

Another voice interrupted them right then. "Morgan, Reid!"

_Thank you, Hotch_, Spencer thought to himself. Saved by the boss. He turned to look at his Unit Chief, who was walking purposefully toward them. Bless the man for his perfect timing.

"I'm sending you two to go talk to a potential witness for me." Hotch wasted no time in saying when he reached them. "We got a call saying that a Mrs. Greenbalm thinks she might know the person mentioned in the press conference, but she doesn't want to come in to the station. She's scared about driving in the snow. Now, Morgan, I know you have bad weather driving experience and Reid, I think Mrs. Greenbalm will respond well to you questioning her." Which Spencer knew translated to '_She'll see you as the least threatening'_.

They took down the address from Hotch, which Spencer calculated was about a ten minute drive from the station in good weather. The snow falling down outside would make a big difference to their time. Most likely it'd add another five to nine minutes to their drive time.

Morgan had already grabbed up his jacket and moved toward the door. Moving to do the same, Spencer looked curiously down at the chair in front of him. Hadn't he tossed his jacket here earlier? Closing his eyes, he flipped through the day's mental images. Yes, he'd come in, shivering his way through work for a while until the heat had finally soaked in. Then he'd turned and made a point to toss his coat in the chair so he wouldn't lose it. He was always losing things while he worked.

So, if he'd put it in the chair, where on earth was it now?

A soft snicker reached Spencer's ears at that moment and everything in him froze. Of course. He closed his eyes once more and took a deep breath, counting to five. This time, instead of anger, the familiar waves of hurt hit him. He was an adult now; shouldn't this kind of childish behavior have stopped? Or was he going to be doomed to deal with bullies for the rest of his life? Was that just going to be his fate?

Well, just because they were going to try and drive him to distraction didn't mean that he had to give them the satisfaction of knowing that they'd won. A quote by Marie Curie floated through his mind. _"Life is not easy for any of us, but what of that? We must have perseverance and, above all, confidence in ourselves."_

He may not always have confidence in himself but he was going to have the perseverance to not let anyone force him down. Just once in his life he was determined not to let some bully know that they had succeeded in getting him down.

Pride was like a cloak that he wrapped around himself. He deliberately ignored the two still snickering detectives and instead focused his gaze on the front door of the station. Amazingly he kept his feet steady as he crossed the room and headed out the door.

The first blast of cold air and snow had Spencer shivering. He wrapped his arms around his waist and moved toward the black SUV that was pulling up in front of him. He'd known that Morgan was going to go get the car and bring it around. Not only from years of knowing his co-worker and knowing how Morgan was when he worked, but also because he knew that Morgan knew _him _and would be trying to keep him from being in the cold too much.

Spencer felt his hand shake from the cold as he reached out and grabbed the door handle. He couldn't stop himself from shivering while climbing in and snapping the door shut as quickly as possible. He forced his hands to move, taking the seatbelt and locking it. Vaguely he heard a soft curse from Morgan. Then there was the sound of movement and suddenly, heat was blowing directly on Spencer. He almost moaned from the sensation. His body instinctively moved forward a little, leaning into the heat.

"What the hell, kid?" Morgan asked him. The car started moving, but Spencer didn't pay any attention. He trusted Morgan's driving and he knew where they were going. What he focused on was the heat and Morgan's voice as it filled the car. "Where is your jacket?"

He hadn't thought beyond leaving the station, Spencer had to admit to himself. If he had, he would have realized that he was going to freeze outside and that Morgan was going to question him. To be honest, if he'd thought it through, he really should have just said something to the two and got his coat back. The guys wouldn't have dared to cause too much trouble in a station full of officers that might see or hear what was going on. That was a much better alternative than having to deal with Morgan's questions and, if he found out the truth, his temper. Unfortunately, him finding out the truth was a likely option. Spencer knew he wasn't a good liar when it came to his friends. They always seemed to see right through him.

"I-I'm not s-s-sure." Spencer stuttered out, his teeth chattering slightly. He had been careful in answering Morgan. What he'd said wasn't a technical lie. He didn't know where his coat was. Man, why on earth did he get so cold so easily? He'd barely been outside! But it was like the cold had soaked straight down into his bones in an instant. Though the heaters _were_ helping tremendously.

"What do you mean, you're not sure?"

A string of curses he typically didn't use filled Spencer's mind. Couldn't Morgan just let this go? He tried to think fast. "You k-know me, Morg-gan." There, that was simple. He _was_ rather notorious for setting things down when he was working and not remembering where he put them. Much to everyone's amusement, actually.

Morgan scoffed lightly at him, never looking away from the road. "I do know you, kid. This means I know when you're feeding me lines of bullshit." He said seriously. "Now, you plan on telling me what the hell is going on? First, you're grumbling and muttering to yourself in the station until I thought my brain would leak out my ears. Then, you sit here and bold faced lie to me about something as simple as a jacket."

Sometimes, working with a group of profilers was a, well, a giant pain. Spencer chewed on the inside of his cheek, his eyebrows drawing down as his gaze slid to the snow outside the window. There had to be a way to deal with this. His thoughts wrestled with one another for a moment. Part of him wanted to tell Morgan; to just unload on his best friend. That part of him also hated lying to someone he cared about. But the other part of him didn't want to say anything. That part was the little kid in him who had been trained to just duck his head down and keep on going, no matter what anyone did to him.

He wished there was a happy medium between the two. But, he'd already let the silence stretch on for so long that there was no way Morgan wouldn't know something was going on.

Yet again Spencer was saved from a conversation he didn't want to have, though. He hadn't realized how long he'd let the silence stretch on until he saw the street they were on. Oh, wow. They were already here. Either he'd spaced quite a bit or Morgan had driven faster than he should have in the snow.

The SUV was put into park. Just when Spencer would have reached for his belt to unhook himself, Morgan's hand settled on his shoulder. He forced himself to look up at a face that was full of concern. "We've got a job to do, Reid, so I'm going to let this slide. For now." Morgan told him gently. There was compassion on his face, but there was also determination. "I have absolutely no idea what on earth is going on, but something's been off with you the past few days, not just today. When we get done here, you and I are going to talk."

That obviously wasn't a request. Spencer did the only thing he could, he nodded, but his mind was already racing over a million different ways he could try to fix this. Together, the two men stepped from the SUV and slipped into work mode, preparing to interview their new 'lead'.

NEXT PART

When they reached the front door, Spencer had to work his hardest to not shiver convulsively. He waited, arms wrapped around his waist, as Morgan knocked. The two men looked at one another when no one answered. Again, Morgan knocked. This time he called out the woman's name as well as announcing himself. Still nothing.

"You t-t-think she's-s ok-k-k?" Spencer stammered out. The wind blew, making him shiver once again. Damn those jerks! He was freezing without his coat on out here.

Morgan looked at the door again. He moved sideways, glancing in the window. "Nothing in the living room. It doesn't look like any other lights are on."

"We c-c-can't go i-i-in witho-out a w-warrant."

"I know. Something just doesn't feel right. Why say she'd meet with us and then end up not being home?" A sigh slid past Morgan's lips before he turned to look at Spencer. He gave him an appraising look. "Let's get you back in that car before you shiver so hard you actually break something, kid."

Any other time, Spencer might have protested, just on principal. He'd learned to enjoy his moments of bickering with Morgan. They made him feel kind of…normal. But right at that moment the idea of heat was too good to pass up. He followed Morgan back to the SUV, eagerly climbing into his seat. Once Morgan was in and the car was on, heat blasted out of the heaters once more. Spencer had to bite his cheek again to keep the whimper from slipping past his lips.

"How on earth have you managed to survive this long with that little meat on your body?" Morgan teased him while pulling away from the curb. "Every time it drops below fifty you're always freezing."

"Vegas k-kid, r-remember?"

"Right, right. You're used to being able to cook your food on the sidewalk with the heat you have."

"Why o-on earth w-w-would I w-want to cook my f-f-food on something s-s-so unsanitary as a p-public s-s-sidewalk?"

The confusion in Spencer's voice had Morgan chuckling at him. "Never mind, kid. It's an expression."

"Oh." Well, it didn't make much sense, did it? Why would someone eat off the sidewalk? Spencer shrugged it off and huddled in on himself, pulling his knees up towards his chest. He'd much rather deal with teasing and random expressions that he didn't understand than have Morgan pick up their old conversation. "Half t-t-the things you s-say don't make s-s-sense sometimes, Morgan." He taunted, hoping to keep this going.

A look at Morgan showed him that this was a futile effort. Damn. "Nice try, Reid."

"I d-d-don't know w-what you m-m-mean."

"You think I don't know when you're distracting me? Come on now, I know you better than that. Talk to me."

He locked his eyes forward on the road. "There's n-nothing to s-s-say."

"Reid."

Just that one word. But, it was the tone he said it in that had Spencer flinching slightly. That tone told him that Morgan wasn't going to let this go. Not without finding out something. Closing his eyes, Spencer let out a soft sigh, the heat finally chasing the most of the chill from his body. "Please, Morgan. Can you j-just let it go? Please. It has no b-bearing whatsoever on our case. I c-can handle this."

"I didn't think it had anything to do with the case, kid. But it has something to do with you and that's more important to me. I'm not doubting that you can handle it. I just, I want to help."

"I'm infinitely grateful to you for that. But, I'm handling it, just like I always have."

Almost instantly he knew that was the wrong thing to say. It gave away far, far too much. He couldn't help but wince when he heard Morgan start cursing. Damn it, couldn't he have just kept his mouth shut? Maybe if he'd just ignored Morgan then this might not have happened. He'd just basically guaranteed that Morgan wasn't going to let this go.

"Handling what, Reid?" Morgan snapped at him. There was anger written plainly in his voice. "What are you handling? It someone giving you a hard time?"

Still Spencer tried to downplay it and give himself time to think. "Why would you think that?"

"Don't try that act with me, Dr. Reid, or I'll kick your ass myself." The threat didn't scare Spencer as it might have a few years ago. He knew Morgan better. "You said you're handling it, just like you always have. Pair that together with your anger and the board being all messed up when all of us know better than to touch your board. Then you can't find your jacket. And that's just today!"

Just today? Oh, no. Morgan hadn't noticed any of the other things, had he? Spencer clenched his eyes shut as his friend proved his wishes futile.

"You've been missing more stuff than ever lately. Your coffee that you said you must have ordered wrong when you spit out the drink you took. Your misplaced files. Not getting our phone calls cause you said you misplaced your phone. You've been jumpy as hell, too. Now, are you going to tell me what the hell is going on already or do I have to walk into that damn station and start demanding answers from everyone else?"

"No!" The word ripped from Spencer with horror. Wide eyed, he spun to look at his best friend. "Don't do that!" The idea actually terrified him. He knew that terror was written on his face and in his voice, but he couldn't stop it. If Morgan did that, it would only make things worse in the long run. One alpha male going after other alpha males was a recipe for disaster. First for them, and then in the end it would be for Spencer. He would be the one that would have to suffer the consequences. He could make it until the case was over. He could! Then they'd be home and it would be done.

His panic had stopped Morgan in his tracks. A glance at his friend's face showed Spencer that Morgan was having his own internal debate. Most likely the protective side of him was wanting to, obviously, protect, but the other part of him would want to honor his friend's wishes.

A sudden cough from the car interrupted the tense silence. Spencer's eyes snapped forward as the car gave another cough, and then sputtered. Then he felt it slowing down. As Morgan's cursing filled the car and they slowly came to a complete stop, all Spencer could think was _Really? Just…really?_

"Dammit!" Morgan slammed his hands against the wheel. He tried to turn it over, but no sound came out. His cursing grew louder and steadier. He reached down under the wheel and pulled something before climbing from the rig. His door slammed shut behind him. Even so, Spencer shivered from that small gust of wind that came in. He found himself watching Morgan pop the hood of the car to look underneath.

_It isn't going to work_ he thought to himself. _Not with my luck lately_. No, with his luck they'd most likely be stranded here and buried in a snow bank and freeze to death. As soon as he thought that, statistics filled his head, telling him exactly how unlikely that outcome was. Spencer chewed on the inside of his lip. He just didn't have it in him to be irrational. Logic and facts always won out in his mind.

The sound of the hood slamming shut startled him from his thoughts and had him jumping. He knew by the look on Morgan's face that the car wasn't going to start back up. Well, wasn't this just going to fit in _great_ with his day! He'd freeze trying to get back to the station. Not that he really had much of a choice. His eyes scanned the road around them, trying to look through the still falling snow. It was dark out, which made it a little difficult to read the street signs. Plus, his contacts had been irritating him and his glasses were in his coat pocket. So it took him until Morgan was in the car and the door was shut again before he could force his eyes to read the street sign.

"We're on Killingsworth." Spencer said, cutting into Morgan's grumbling curses. "The station is about three blocks dead ahead and then two point five blocks left. We should be able to make it just fine."

"Walk? Kid, it's like, twenty degrees out there."

"Hypothermia settles into the body when your core temperature drops below the required temperature for metabolism and other body functions, which is about 95 degrees Fahrenheit. So long as we move quickly and keep the blood flowing, we have a better chance walking there than sitting here in the car and waiting."

The little mini lecture had Morgan eyeing him. Those close to him knew he rambled when he was nervous. Well, ok, he rambled all the time anyways, but even _more_ when he was nervous. And right at that moment, Spencer was nervous. He didn't want to get out of the heat of the car. He didn't want to walk in the cold for five point five blocks without a jacket.

Before he could change his mind on it, he sucked in a deep breath and then reached for his door handle. He was out of the car, door closed, before Morgan had even finished opening his door.

The first blast of wind was the worst. Spencer crossed his arms, shoving his hands into his armpits. At least he had on a long sleeved shirt. Thank God for that. Now, if only he'd worn the sweater instead of the sweater vest. Still, no use lamenting over something that was done and over with. He forced himself to ignore the wind, ignore the snow landing in his hair and going down the back of his shirt, and even ignore the way the snow was already soaking into his shoes.

He barely gave Morgan a second to catch up before he was starting down the sidewalk. He heard his friend start to jog behind him, trying to keep up. Spencer's long legs were trying to eat up the distance between there and the station.

"Hey." Morgan put his hand on Spencer's shoulder as he finally caught up to him. "Damn, you got some long legs, Reid."

Spencer gave a jerky nod. He didn't trust himself to answer without shivering and stuttering. But he almost groaned when Morgan's hand moved to his other shoulder, pulling him against Morgan's side. Oh, Morgan was _warm_. He couldn't stop from leaning into him. The arm that was around his shoulders shifted a little, so it was completely covering the back of his neck, keeping the snow from his shirt.

He must have made some sound, because Morgan chuckled. But then another gust blew and Spencer shivered convulsively. His teeth clacked together with the force of it. He heard Morgan's muffled curse and then the arm around him was suddenly gone. Spencer almost moaned at that loss. He had to force his feet to keep moving, one step after another. They'd made it a block and a half already and he was feeling like he was frozen solid.

A hand on his arm stopped Spencer. He turned, intending to ask Morgan what was going on, but something was suddenly yanked over his head. The first thought that came to mind was panic. His body jerked and went tense and his mind spun. One hand instinctively dropped down to where his gun sat.

His sense of smell was what calmed him down first. Whatever was being pulled over his head had a smell he was more than familiar with. One that had driven him crazy on multiple occasions. Morgan's cologne. That was enough to keep him still as whatever it was got yanked further down and his head suddenly popped out the top, a hood settling over his head. A sweater? He blinked, finding Morgan standing in front of him, grinning like a lunatic. "I had the sweater on under my coat. Couldn't just watch you freeze, kid."

"W-What a-a-a-about y-you?" Spencer stammered out. Not that he was going to give the sweater back. He pushed his arms into the sleeves, not even bothering to bring his hands out the ends. The thing hung on him, obviously a few sizes too big, but it was still warm from being on Morgan's body and it felt like Heaven.

Morgan grinned and slung his arm back over Spencer's shoulders. The two started back down the road together. "I've got my jacket here, Reid. I'll stay warm. Plus, you forget, I'm used to Chicago weather. This is nothing."

"I d-d-didn't f-forget." Spencer protested. He didn't forget facts like that!

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

The two walked in a companionable silence down the road for a while. At one point when Spencer felt himself start to stumble, Morgan's arm braced him and helped him keep his feet. He flashed him a quick smile of thanks before ducking back into the hood, trying to shelter himself as much as possible. It was when they made the turn off of Killingsworth and onto Sterling Avenue that Morgan finally spoke again.

"I want to let things go like you asked, Reid. I really do. But if someone's giving you trouble here, I can't just not do something about it. You're my best friend."

Barely Spencer resisted sighing. He'd known this was going to come. Morgan wasn't the type to just let something like this go. He'd pick and pick at it until he was satisfied with what he got from it. It was one of the things that could be the most annoying and yet the most endearing about him. Right now, though, it meant that he was going to have to give Morgan something, or he'd pick at it until they were home again; maybe even beyond that.

"It's n-n-not anything s-serious." Spencer said slowly, trying to force himself not to stutter as he shivered. "I c-can handle s-some t-things, Morgan. If y-you s-step in, i-i-it'll just m-make it w-w-worse. But I p-promise that I w-will t-tell you if it g-gets too m-m-much." That was all he could offer his friend. Even that was hard for him to promise. He was too used to dealing with things on his own. Making a promise to ask for help was a big thing for him. Morgan, of all people, knew that.

He gave Spencer a soft squeeze. "I'm gonna hold you to that, Reid. I'm just a little worried about your definition of 'too much'."

A reluctant smile curved Spencer's lips. "You t-t-trying to i-imply s-s-something?"

"Oh, you mean like how you use your giant IQ to twist words and things to your advantage when it suits you? Would I really imply something like that?"

"Would I r-really d-do s-s-something like t-that?" Spencer fired back. His good mood was growing with each barb they exchanged and each step that drew them closer to the station. He could see it now, about a block away.

Morgan's laugh echoed around them, warming Spencer from the inside out. He loved listening to Morgan laugh. "Would you, pretty boy? More like, when haven't you?"

"Hey I r-r-resent t-that! I a-always t-t-tell the t-truth!"

"You do. But your definitions of some things vary a little from the rest of the worlds."

That was truth; there was no way he could deny that. So he settled for bumping his shoulder into Morgan and grinning. His friend squeezed him in response. It was moments like these that Spencer cherished the most. Not the cold part, obviously. But this camaraderie that he had never before felt. No one else in the world relaxed him the way that Morgan could. With no one else did he feel as safe. Not just physically, though it was hard not to feel physically safe standing with Derek Morgan. But emotionally and mentally as well.

Spencer knew he could say pretty much anything to Morgan and it would be ok. Morgan would either fight back with him if he was so inclined, or he would be there to help him through things or to make him laugh. They joked together, picked on one another, bickered, and just had an all-around good time. More than once Garcia had teased them that they acted like an old married couple. Yet, despite all the teasing, neither would have changed it for the world. Morgan was the first true friend that Spencer could really remember in his life. He had been the first one to break through Spencer's walls, aside from Gideon, allowing the others to find room in his heart. If Spencer found himself feeling things that weren't exactly familial, well, that was his problem. He kept the thoughts and feelings to himself and had learned a long time ago to work around the attraction he felt for the older man.

The hand on his shoulder gave a soft pinch in retaliation to the shoulder jab, pulling Spencer out of his thoughts and almost making him squeal. Just barely he managed to keep that reaction inside. Wouldn't that just give Morgan perfect ammunition? A squealing Spencer Reid. Oh yeah, that was a manly sound.

The lights of the station grew brighter as they closed the last little bit of distance. Spencer slanted a look at Morgan, trying to glare at the man who had almost made him squeal. He used the bagginess of the sweater to hide his movement so that Morgan didn't see as Spencer shifted his hand. He poked Morgan's ribs, right where he knew he was ticklish, making the older man suck in a surprised breath and jump slightly to the side. It made Spencer laugh. Goofing off with his best friend never failed to make him relax.

NEXT PART

Their laughter preceded them into the station, drawing all eyes towards them. Realizing that, Spencer felt his face flush. He could just imagine the image they presented to the room. Him, wrapped in Morgan's sweater, looking like a kid wearing his dad's clothes, with Morgan's arm wrapped around his shoulder and the both of them covered in snow and grinning.

When Spencer would have ducked away from his friend, moving somewhere to hide from the laughter that was starting, Morgan just tugged him along through the room and back towards the evidence boards, where the rest of the team was waiting. Emily and Rossi were both grinning and even Hotch looked like he wanted to smile.

"Car broke down a few blocks away." Morgan said. He maneuvered them both towards the chairs, pulling one out and practically pushing Spencer down into it. "The lady never answered her door, Hotch. We looked in the window, but I didn't see anything. Got me kind of worried but there's not really anything to do until tomorrow. I'll go try again in the morning."

As he was talking, Morgan had moved toward the coffee pot. He came back now and held the mug out toward Spencer, not even looking over at him while making his report. Spencer grinned and brought his hands out of his sleeves. _Bless best friends_ he thought to himself as he took the mug in his frozen hands. _No one knows you better_.

"Nice sweater, Reid." Emily teased him, sitting down on the other side of the table to grin at him.

Still feeling happy from joking with Morgan, he had to resist sticking his tongue out at her. "It was cold out there." He defended himself. The first drink he took of his coffee almost made him moan at the joy and warmth of it.

"You look like you could swim in the thing, kiddo." Rossi added in. His eyes were twinkling with good humor.

Spencer raised an eyebrow at him. "That would be physically impossible. It would drag me down to the bottom of any body of…" He trailed off as the others looked at him. The flush on his cheeks grew. Oh. Rossi hadn't meant that literally. His blush made his teammates laugh at him, even Hotch.

While the rest of the team discussed the information they had present, Spencer rose to his feet and moved toward his board, still clutching the cup in one hand. His feet were still soaked and he was looking forward to going and putting on dry clothes, but he couldn't just sit there, knowing that everything he'd put up was still in the wrong place. Maybe it was a little obsessive compulsive, but what was one more quirk in life, right?

As Spencer put another piece back where it was supposed to go, his mind wandered over the facts laid out before him. Something about their profile had been off. They couldn't seem to pin down the comfort zone to go with their Unsub. At least, not one of a small enough size to work with.

He seemingly killed without bias over race or age, sticking only to females. But none of them were the same type. None were even dumped in remotely the same area.

Three minutes later, he had everything back where it was supposed to go and he took a step back so he could look at it as a whole. All the homes were mapped out, as well as the dump sites and the abduction sites. The man kept each woman for only forty-eight hours. Short, in the scheme of things, yet an eternity to the person being held.

Something jumped out at him, not quite forming into an idea yet. But it was the start of one. He furrowed his brows, stepping up close again. Just vaguely he heard someone step up beside him but the person didn't speak so he didn't bother paying them any attention.

Maybe he'd been looking at it wrong the entire time. He'd been trying to narrow down the area based off of the abduction and dump sites, because that usually indicated the area an Unsub was comfortable in for this type of profile. But, none of it was working. He was ending up with a whole lot of nothing. But, his eyes ghosted over the victim homes. More specifically, the street names.

"Could it really be that simple?" He muttered. He quirked his head, pulling inside his mind for a moment to scan over the files he'd read earlier.

Behind him he could hear a male voice, someone he didn't know, ask "Is he ok?"

"Yeah, he's fine." Hotch's voice replied casually.

That other voice again. "What is he doing? He looks like he's spaced off at the wall."

This time Rossi was the one to answer. "He's reading."

Spencer ignored them. In his mind he flipped through the pages of the files, searching for the clues he wanted. Another part of his brain was registering the conversation around him, trying to pay attention to see if someone was going to speak to him. It was a skill he'd learned at a young age, though he wasn't always very good at it. Working with the team had helped considerably.

"Reading? But he doesn't even having anything to read." A new man's voice asked.

"Yeah he does." Morgan spoke up, his voice close. He must have been the one to stand beside Spencer. "He has an eidetic memory. Perfect recall on the stuff he reads. He must be onto something, Hotch. He's got that constipated look and he's muttering to himself again."

Any other time, Spencer might have protested Morgan's choice of words, but he'd just found what it was he was looking for. That was it! That was why it all seemed wrong. It _was_ wrong! Hastily he took a drink of his coffee before shoving it in the direction he thought Morgan might be. Luck would have it, his friend took the cup right as he let go. Then Spencer was darting over, grabbing the pens from the bottom of his board.

How on earth could they have missed it? "It makes perfect sense." He muttered to himself, eyeing the map. He took the blue, tracing a straight line from one point to another. "I can't believe I missed this."

"Missed what?" One of those strange male voices asked. "What'd you find out?"

"It was all wrong. I knew something wasn't right, but I didn't look at it well enough. I wasn't paying enough attention." Spencer grabbed one of his push pins and put it on a new spot on the map. The instant that he did, he knew he was right. It made perfect sense. This would narrow things down completely! No wonder his geographic profile had been so big before. He hadn't had all the correct information to work with.

"Hey, hello! I asked what you found out." That voice repeated.

Spencer ignored him again. He was too busy with what he was doing. Thankfully he heard Hotch step up. "Give him a minute to work it through. He'll tell us when he's done." He told the strange guy. That was also a message for Spencer to hurry up and explain what it was he'd found. He heard Morgan laugh too and add in "You won't get an answer till he's done anyways. He hears you, he's just ignoring you. There's only one way to get his attention. Watch."

There was the sound of footsteps. Spencer's face drew down into a look of concentration. He knew Morgan was going to do something, part of his brain was still logging it all away, but the biggest part of him was focused on the lines he was drawing from here to there. Then his coffee cup came into view. Balancing one pen between his fingers, still drawing with the other one, Spencer took the cup and took a drink, handing it back to his friend. He ignored the chuckles that were suddenly behind him.

After two more lines, Spencer finally stepped back. "There." He said finally. Though he couldn't see it, the others watched as his eyes cleared a little and focused back on them. "There's the Unsub's comfort zone. I almost guarantee he doesn't live anywhere inside of there, though."

"I thought this geographical thing was supposed to tell us where he lived?" The strange voice asked again. For the first time, Spencer turned to look at the man it belonged to. He didn't quite recognize him, but the nametag said Officer Sparks. Spencer couldn't stop himself from giving the guy a funny look. He set his pens down, still looking at the Officer. "Not necessarily." He told him.

Absently he reached out and took his cup back from Morgan. "Geographic profiling analyzes the locations of a connected series of crimes to determine the most probable area of the Unsub's residence, yes." Without realizing it, Spencer slipped into lecture mode, focusing on Officer Sparks. "By incorporating both qualitative and quantitative methods, it assists in understanding spatial behavior of an Unsub and it helps us to focus the investigation to a smaller area of the community."

Warmed up to the topic, Spencer turned a little to gesture to the map beside him. "In addition to determining the Unsub's most likely area of residence, an understanding of the spatial pattern of a crime series and the characteristics of the crime sites can tell us other useful information, such as whether the crime was opportunistic and the degree of his familiarity with the crime location. This is based on the connection between an Unsub's hunting behavior and his or her non-criminal life."

Officer Sparks had his eyebrows raised, staring openly at Spencer now, as were a few other officers. Color flooded his cheeks. It didn't help that most of his team was grinning.

"Reid?" Hotch stepped up. "What did you find?"

Still blushing, Spencer turned to his Unit Chief. "Well, uh, I was looking at it and I, well, nothing was looking right. See, all of these weren't, um, they weren't matching up properly in the pattern." He almost fumbled his coffee cup as he tried to point things out to Hotch. "See, I had a comfort zone built but it was much larger than it should have been. But then I remembered something that I can't believe I did not think of before."

"What?" Morgan asked curiously. He and the others had moved up by him. In the middle of his new information and his disbelief in himself for missing this, Spencer barely noticed them.

"Well, the victims were abducted from all their homes, right? But Casey Johnson…" Spencer pointed to her picture beside the map and then moved his hand to one of his markers. "We had her listed as living here. But in her file I'd completely forgotten that she'd just moved to this apartment with a friend. She didn't fit into the rest of my calculations and that's why. She moved into her apartment only two days prior to her abduction. But, before that, she lived here." He moved his finger, pointing to the new marker he'd put in.

Officer Sparks looked at him questioningly. "So?"

That floored Spencer for a minute. So? That's what the guy had to say? _So_? Didn't he understand the significance of this?

It was Hotch who took a moment to explain to the room the significance of what Spencer had been saying. It didn't matter anymore. The young genius was already sucked back into his map. Something else tugged at him. The more he stared at the map, the more he was certain there was something he was missing.

"What is it, though?" He muttered. He lifted his hands, pointing to different locations on the map. "No, that doesn't match." He looked to the right. "But maybe…no. No, that's not right. What is it?"

"What's eating at you now, kid?"

Because it was Morgan, Spencer actually answered, his voice slightly absent as he thought about it. "There's something I'm missing here. Not wrong, per se. Just, absent. I feel like I'm missing some important variable in this equation."

"Like what? It looks to me like you've got everything up here."

"I do. But, all right. Look at this. I've got the houses all marked as well as the locations of the disposal sights and the sights of the abductions. Yet none of it is tying together. Victimology is all over the map, so to speak."

Morgan stepped up beside him, nodding. He crossed his arms over his chest as he looked at all the information before them. "We haven't been able to tie the victims together. They didn't go to the same places, didn't look the same. None of that. I mean, their addresses are close, but not so close that I'd think it was overtly significant."

"Their addresses…" Spencer froze, his eyes going wide as his brain started to race. That was it! "I knew it!" He exclaimed, stepping up close to the map so he could see it better. His contacts were driving him up the wall. He could barely see around them. "Look, Morgan, right here. Look at how the houses are laid out in comparison to the others."

Starting his finger at the first victim, Spencer trailed that finger along the road, taking all the curves along the way, passing by each victim's home as he went.

Behind them, Rossi spoke up. "They're all along that road. But we already knew they were close."

"But it's not just that they're along the same road." Excited, Spencer turned and gestured as he spoke. "They're all along the same _route_. What's one person that would be there early morning for all the abductions, except for Casey? Someone who would be there at that early of an hour, every single day, along this same route."

Morgan's eyes grew wide as well. "A paper man or a mailman." He breathed out. "He'd see them every single day. Maybe even be able to stay outside for a moment and watch them get their paper. Or observe them as he delivers to the other houses."

"He'd be someone the community would be used to seeing." Emily added in. "They'd never think twice about seeing his vehicle on the streets. And he'd have the perfect space to hide someone in after abducting them in."

Hotch already had his phone to his ear. "Garcia, I need you to find out who runs the…"

As the team moved away, Spencer let out a soft breath. He'd finally figured out what it was that had been bugging him about all this. About time, too. If only he'd been able to move a little bit faster, notice this a little bit sooner, he might have saved at least one other life. Potentially even more than that.

"Good work, Spence." JJ said beside him, startling him from his thoughts. He jumped slightly before turning to look at her. "Oh! Thanks, JJ."

"Now Garcia will 'work her magic' and hopefully we'll get this Unsub collared before he hurts another woman."

"They'll want to go tonight, even in the snow." Spencer said, looking to where Hotch was just hanging up his phone. The look on his face told Spencer that they'd found the guy. "See, they've found him. They'll go get him now before he takes another girl in the morning. It's too risky to wait."

His eyes scanned the group, looking absently at them all. He knew that Hotch would have him stay here so he wasn't worrying about getting ready to go. Right about then he would have been a liability in the field. Already partially wet from the snow and half frozen, he'd just get worse out there and they'd end up protecting him more than he'd end up helping. Much as he hated it, he knew he was going to be stuck here.

JJ said something else to him, but it was lost as Spencer caught sight of Morgan. For a single instant, Spencer's brain went completely and utterly blank. Then, the only thought he could form was _Oh Shit_. Morgan was standing by the two detectives who had been giving Spencer so much trouble. In his hand was Spencer's jacket. Morgan bent, hands on the desk, hissing something at them.

When Hotch called for him, Morgan gave the two men one of his hardest smiles, straightening up. He turned and tossed Spencer's coat where it had originally been, in a chair, and then he was flashing a grin at Spencer and heading after the team.

"Reid, you stay here with JJ." Hotch called out, already moving to the door. "If Garcia discovers anything else that might be important, you feed it to us."

"Got it." Spencer managed to croak out. His throat felt tight.

Damn Derek Morgan! Hadn't he told the older man to let him deal with this on his own? Spencer could feel the two detectives glaring at him. A moment later, the chief of police was walking over, gesturing to the two to follow him. A bad feeling settled in the pit of Spencer's stomach.

NEXT PART

For thirty minutes he stood there, pretending to do something with a file in his hands, watching the scene in the office play out. He glanced at the clock, hoping his team would be back before they got done in there. From what he'd heard, it was only a ten minute drive from the station to the Unsub's home. They should only be an hour, max. Right? He hoped so.

The two detectives rose from their chairs inside the office and Spencer knew he couldn't stay where he was. Their bodies were screaming rage to anyone who knew how to read body language. He didn't intend on being around when they came out, looking to vent their spleen. Stiffly he walked to his coat, reaching in to grab his cell phone and his glasses. "Hey, JJ, I'll be right back, ok?" Despite his efforts to sound normal, his voice came out slightly strained.

Instant concern was on JJ's face. "You ok, Spence?"

"Yes. I just need to get these contacts out. This new solution is starting to irritate my eyes and I'm having a hard time seeing." It was the truth, just not the whole truth. Her expression said that she didn't quite believe him, but she let it slide and waved him off.

Spencer couldn't get out of there fast enough. The last thing he wanted was to be around when those guys came out of the chief's office. Had Morgan told the chief what was going on? Spencer didn't think so, it didn't make sense. Morgan was the type to try and handle it, man to man, so to speak. But…if Hotch or Rossi had heard him, or he'd mentioned anything to them, they might have reported the officers to their superior.

Oh, he hoped he was wrong. He hoped they were in trouble for a whole different reason. Otherwise, the little time they had left here was going to suck. If the Unsub was caught tonight, at least that meant that they'd be leaving the next day.

Spencer ducked into the bathroom. He took a few minutes to simply breathe and calm himself down. Then, after reassuring himself that he was overreacting and that everything was going to be fine, he took out his disposable contacts and threw them away. After rinsing his face and eyes, he slid his glasses back on, thankful to be able to see normally again. He straightened his spine and gave himself one last look in the mirror. He was right, he was overreacting to this. There was no way they were in trouble because of him. He hadn't said anything. With that last thought, he stepped from the bathroom and right into a pair of waiting arms.

Spencer's first reaction had him trying to lurch backwards, away from the body he'd slammed into. Away from the touch he didn't know. But the arms around him shifted, hands moving to grip his upper arms and hold him in place. A moment later, just as Spencer opened his mouth to speak, he felt a piece of duct tape cover his mouth.

That was when he got his first look at the person holding him. Everything inside of him froze. Oh, no. Detective Jameson. Most definitely the dominate. His partner, Detective Curtis, was easily the submissive. His mind categorized them, his profiler instincts kicking in. Then his baser instincts kicked in, bred into him from years of being the outlet for bullies.

He went utterly limp, making his body as much dead weight as possible. It surprised Jameson, who had to try and shift his grip. Spencer took advantage of that and brought his hands up, shoving at Jameson's arms, momentarily breaking his grip. Spencer didn't waste any time. Instantly he tried to run. But hands grabbed at his sweater, yanking him back again, slamming him into a wall. While his head spun, he felt something grabbing at his wrists and tried his hardest to fight back.

He kicked out with his feet, landing one hit against Jameson's leg. Somehow he managed to stomp Curtis's foot, making the man curse. But the two of them combined were too strong for Spencer. They suddenly had his hands cuffed in front of him. Then a fist rammed into his gut and Spencer couldn't breathe, the tape keeping the air from slipping from his mouth. Breathing through his nose, combined with the punch taking his air away, made him light headed. Because of that, he barely noticed at first when they picked him up and carried him off.

What brought him back to life was the feeling of the cold air suddenly hitting him. _They were outside_. He tried to buck against their hands, to struggle free somehow, but they tightened their grip on him.

The two men took him to the parking lot, out of view of the front windows. There they dropped him down to the ground, kicking his stomach so that he couldn't fight back as they grabbed his wrists. There was another metallic sound from the handcuffs as they swiftly unhooked one wrist, slid the cuff through the front grill of a cop car and re-cuffed his wrist. Horror widened Spencer's eyes. They were going to leave him here, in the cold. In the cold! They could kill him!

Jameson stood over him, a satisfied look on his face. "There." He spat out. "Isn't that perfect? Little genius boy, left out in the cold. It's no more than you deserve you little snot nosed punk."

His comments made Curtis chuckle. Bolstered by that, Jameson grinned. "You thought you were better than us? Sending your _boyfriend_ to come harass us because you 'misplaced' your coat. That was bullshit, you little punk. You don't even deserve to be an officer! You're just a kid who has more brains than he's worth. You think you're better than us? We _worked_ to get where we are!"

"That's right!" Curtis threw in. He spat on the ground by Spencer, who barely managed to dodge it. Spencer stared at them, wide eyed as they cursed him. "You think you'll get us in trouble for this too, but you can't." Curtis continued. "Chief already suspended us for two weeks, no pay. Said he'd heard too much about our 'harassment'. Not our fault people are bitches and can't take a damn joke."

"So, we thought we'd show them who the bitch was here." Jameson sneered. "Let's see how you stand it out here in the cold. If you're tough enough to be a cop, you should be able to handle the hour till your team comes back."

Hour? There's no way in hell he would survive for an hour out in this without some form of hypothermia! JJ would come find him. She'd notice he was gone. Plus, another ten minutes had to have passed. Maybe even fifteen. The team should be back any time now. He had to pray that they would be.

Jameson's foot shot out again, this time connecting with Spencer's face as he tried to dodge it. Pain exploded through his nose. It colored his whole world for a moment. He distantly heard Jameson's voice. "Let's leave him here, Curtis, before someone comes. Let's get the hell out of here."

"Later, little boy." They both called out as they turned and left him there on his knees in the snow, blood pouring from his nose.

Spencer paid no more attention to them. All his attention was focused on the pain in his nose. But, more than that, on the blood pouring from his nose. He knew a nosebleed was nothing, it would be fine. Might be broken, but that was fixable. What worried him was losing the ability to breathe through his nose.

His fingers almost felt numb as he lifted them as far as the cuffs would allow. He bent his head down, trying to get his fingers near the tape. He had to pull it off so he could breathe! It took what felt like forever before he could make his fingers grip the end of the tape. With one pull of his head, the tape ripped off his mouth, pulling some skin off his lips. He couldn't stop the whimper that slid out.

Damn them! What on earth had he done to them? What had he done that justified them chaining him to a car in the freezing cold? Nothing! Why couldn't Morgan have just left this alone? Anger coursed in Spencer. It was easier to focus on than the cold that was seeping down into him, or the wet that was soaking his corduroys. If Morgan had just done what he'd asked and let him handle this on his own, then those _bastards_ wouldn't have been so furious with him!

The logical side of Spencer's brain rebelled at that thought. This wasn't Morgan's fault. He knew that. Whether Morgan had said something or not, it was obvious the two detectives had already been heading for trouble this evening. The chief would have probably talked to them anyways and they still would have taken it out on him. Men like that were compelled to take things out on people like him.

But it just…it wasn't fair! He was an adult now. He was an FBI agent! Shouldn't he have at least earned a small amount of respect in life? Other men did! But oh no, not him! No, he was still stuck being the nerdy kid in a group of bullies that seemed to just be drawn to him like bees to honey. It was like he carried around a sign that said 'Pick on me!' or something like that.

The wind blew and took away Spencer's train of thought. His whole body shivered, clanging his hands against the ice cold cuffs. He shifted closer to the rig despite the cold metal that pressed into him. He needed to try and see if his nose was broken and if he could get it to stop bleeding. He also needed to move as much as possible.

They'd chained him to the lowest part of the grill so there was no way he could stand his lanky body completely upright. He settled for moving off his knees and to his feet, into a squatting position. That also allowed him to bend enough to try and touch his nose. The first contact of fingers to skin had him hissing in pain. It was broken, all right. Hadn't stopped bleeding either. It would be ideal if he could set it, but that would most likely make a huge knot in his nose. Better to have a professional do it. If he set it wrong, they'd have to use a mallet on his nose later to try and straighten it out. The thought of that had him recoiling.

So he turned his thoughts towards trying to get warm. He inched forward, moving as close to where he was chained as he possibly could. It gave his body a slight huddle that added some warmth for him, though not much. The warmth from Morgan's sweater was long gone by now. He could only be thankful that he still had it on, though, or he'd be even colder than he already was.

His ribs protested to this scrunched position. He tried to detach from it, to think clinically. He'd had broken ribs before. If they were broken now, he wouldn't be able to squat and bend like this. They would be causing him excruciating pain. This meant that most likely he was just bruised. That was good. That was positive. Better that than broken ribs.

Suddenly Spencer went completely still. His phone! He cursed himself for being three kinds of fool. His phone was in his pocket! If he could get it, he could call JJ and she could come get him. But, it was in his pants pocket. He tried to raise enough to reach his pocket, but his hands were pointing upwards because of the cuffs, which meant he couldn't twist them to point downwards. He tried his hardest, trying to shift around just enough to angle his hip, but he couldn't get the right movement. His wrists screamed their protest and his head started to spin a little.

_Think, Spencer! Think. Don't panic. Use your brain_ he ordered himself. He shifted again, easing his wrists, and looked around himself. Ok, there was nothing he could reach for to help him. Nothing was in reach anyways but the car he was stuck to. But, maybe if he moved just right against the bumper, he could push his phone out of his pocket. Then he could pick the phone up with his feet and raise it to his hands. It would mean getting the rest of his pants wet, but that was better than being stuck out here.

Plan firmly in mind, he started pushing his hip against the bumper, trying his hardest to dislodge the phone in his pocket. He ignored the shivers that were running up and down his body, growing stronger and stronger as he got colder and colder. His glasses were almost soaked, making it hard to see, but he didn't let it stop him. He just focused on what he was trying to do.

After a few minutes of struggling, he was rewarded when his phone popped out of his pocket to land in the snow. Now came the hard part. His body rebelled against what his mind was telling him to do. He forced his legs to move, to stretch a foot out in the snow and hook his phone, pulling it toward him a little more. Unfortunately that also pulled over a small pile of snow.

_Now, sit down. Just move your legs and sit down in the snow. It'll just be for a minute until you can get the phone in your hands. Your body temperature is dropping; you're shivering worse and worse. Soon, you'll stop shivering altogether. Your toes and fingers are already feeling numb. Your body only needs to drop below ninety-five degrees before hypothermia sets in._

He had to stop that thought in its tracks before he sent himself into a panic. He forced his legs to move again, to lower himself slowly to the ground. The feel of the snow against his pants was a physical shock. He tried to yank back up but the muscles in his legs gave out, dropping him down into the snow. It took another minute before he could breathe normally and remember what he was supposed to be doing. _Get the phone, Spencer Reid. Do not just sit here in the snow like an idiot. _He pushed a foot forward, then the other, trying to pinch his phone between the two. But his feet didn't seem to want to work right. He got the phone between the two and tried to lift it but the phone fell. Again and again he tried, wanting to weep each time it fell down. Finally he couldn't even seem to get his feet to push together.

His whole lower half was freezing, his body couldn't seem to stop shivering and his nose felt like it was throbbing in tune with his heartbeat. His stomach ached and his hands were going numb. His head slid against the car's bumper with a whimper. _Someone, help me._ He thought to himself. _Please._

NEXT PART

Miserable, Spencer barely noticed a sound behind him; didn't register it as tires rolling over the snow. He did hear the next sound, realizing it was a car door after a minute of contemplation. When he turned his head, he saw figures moving toward the station, someone in the middle of them with handcuffs on his wrists. Almost too late he realized that he needed to call out to make them notice he was there. They hadn't seen him!

"Hey!" He tried to yell. His voice was barely a croak. Drawing air, he tried again. They were almost to the door! "Hey! Over here!"

This time the group stopped, a few heads turning. Spencer almost wept from joy. "Over here!" he cried again, his lip cracking and bleeding from where the tape had pulled off skin. "Hey!"

A curse reached his ears, muffled by the wind. He watched as the prisoner was handed off to a few cops—he could only tell they were cops by their dark blue uniforms—and then four people were running toward him. Spencer didn't realize that tears were sliding down his numb cheeks until he felt them drip off.

The first person to reach him was Morgan. He was the most beautiful sight Spencer had ever seen. A part of his brain told him that he would have thought that about anyone who came up to save him at the moment but he didn't care. "M-M-Morgan." He breathed out.

"Jesus, Reid! What the hell happened?" Morgan cried. He tried to move Spencer, to help him up off the ground, but was met with resistance. Just as the others reached them, Morgan saw the handcuffs. His curses echoed in the night around them. "Hotch! He's handcuffed to the car!" he called right as Emily exclaimed "God, look at all the blood!"

Hotch dropped to his knees right beside Spencer, hands going to the cuffs. "Prentiss, get in the station and get us a set of keys. Any keys! They all should work." He snapped out. While Emily raced off, Hotch wrapped his hands around Spencer's, trying to put heat into them. He didn't chafe them, just rubbed lightly to stimulate the heat. "Reid, what happened? These look like standard issue cuffs."

Just as he tried to answer, Spencer felt Morgan squat behind him, wrapping his arms around him to add warmth. A low moan slid past his lips. He leaned back instinctively into that heat, trying to chase away the chill. Oh man, it felt so _good_!

Rossi was stripping off his jacket, using it to wrap around Spencer's legs and feet as he lifted them out of the snow. "His nose looks broken." He told the others. "Reid, are you hurt anywhere else?"

He tried to answer, he really did. But he couldn't seem to stop shivering long enough to force the words out. So he settled for turning his head into Morgan's arm, trying to warm his face against his friend's jacket.

A sound alerted them that Emily was coming, as well as someone else. He didn't realize who it was until he heard a voice cry out "Spence!"

That was JJ. He knew the sound of her voice. Everyone was there. Embarrassment might have played a factor at any other time, yet at the moment he could feel nothing but relief and heat. Blessed heat. His eyes tried to slide closed. It took great effort to force them to stay open. He watched as Hotch took the keys, unlocking first one wrist and then the other. Then he found himself pulled into a pair of strong arms, being carried bridal style. It took longer than he liked to figure out who was carrying him. Morgan.

Light and heat suddenly assailed him and he couldn't keep his moan in. Next were voices. It seemed everyone was talking all at once. He held in the next moan that tried to slip out and turned instead to face Morgan's chest, trying to hide from all the light and sound. Then he heard Morgan's low voice murmuring to him. "Just a second, pretty boy, we'll get you somewhere warm and quiet." That eased him a little. He trusted Morgan.

Another voice called through the room, ringing in Spencer's ears. "Get back, get back!" A man bellowed. "Bring him in here, Agents. Someone go get the EMTs!"

There were EMT's there? Why on earth were there EMTs? That was something important. Something he felt he should know. He tried to lift his head to look at Morgan's face but it hurt too much. So he stayed buried against Morgan's shoulder as he tried to talk. "W-W-Who g-got h-h-hurt?"

"Rossi had to clip the Unsub, kid. Don't worry about it. They had paramedics meet us here. Just caught the guy's arm, he'll be fine. Good thing they're here, too, so they can make sure you're ok and look at that nose of yours."

He wanted to give some smart response, something like he might usually do, but his shivers were making it hard for him to talk. His teeth kept clicking together. He did sigh as the lights around him went slightly dimmer. They'd moved rooms, apparently.

"Sir?" A female voice broke into the room. Spencer realized he didn't know that voice. It wasn't Emily or JJ. Who was that? He didn't bother opening his eyes—when had he closed them?—to look around. They couldn't be talking to him. Most likely it was Hotch they were talking to. Hotch was the one everyone automatically called 'Sir'.

Something touched Spencer's arm, then, startling him from his thoughts. His instincts took over and he jerked in Morgan's arms, trying to move away from the unfamiliar touch. His hands tried to curl into Morgan's jacket or his shirt, anything to grip on to so that he would be reassured that his friend was there with him.

"Whoa, whoa." Morgan said soothingly. He shifted them both, moving and adjusting his arms. Then Spencer found himself even more enfolded in those strong arms and it felt like he was suddenly draped over Morgan's lap. The older profiler must have sat them down on something. It didn't matter. Spencer knew he was safe, here, in Morgan's arms. He wouldn't let people hurt him. "Hey there, Reid. It's just the EMT. She just wants to look at you, ok?" He felt Morgan move a little and then he heard the soft rumble in Morgan's chest. "He's a little skittish at being touched on a good day, ok? And his name is Dr. Spencer Reid."

"A doctor?" The woman's voice said with surprise. "Well, Dr. Reid, I'm Britney. You're awfully young to be a doctor."

"Not that kind of doctor." Hotch said, his voice sounding close. In his mind, Spencer could picture Hotch towering over the woman, his usual glower on his face.

There was the sound of someone moving and Spencer felt the presence of someone near his side, the side that wasn't pressed against Morgan. "Dr. Reid, do you mind if I take a look at your nose?"

"I-It's b-b-broken-n." Spencer stammered out. "C-Can y-y-you j-just s-s-s-set it? I w-w-would b-but I c-can't r-right n-n-now."

There was silence for a moment. "Um, I can set it here, Dr. Reid. That's part of my job, to be able to do small things like that. But if you wait till we get to the hospital, we'll get it set straight and we'll get you a little something for the pain. Is there anywhere else on you that hurts?"

His brain was stuck on only two parts of that sentence. He didn't even pay attention as she asked about his other pain. "N-No." He gasped out, interrupting her. This time he made his eyes open so he could look at the face of the woman near him. She was pretty, maybe in her mid-forties, and she had kind eyes. He didn't care. "N-No h-hospital-l. N-No p-p-pain m-meds."

Her blond eyebrows drew down over eyes that flashed with concern. "We need to get you to a hospital, Dr. Reid. You're obviously suffering from hypothermia and we need to take care of your nose as well as any other injuries. I'd like you to walk out there, if possible. Get some circulation going."

"N-No!" He exclaimed. He tried to make his voice firm, but it wasn't working. "I w-w-won't go." Warmth from Morgan's body combined with his stress and fear had him moving beyond the shivering for a moment, making his words just a little clearer. "I d-don't need a h-hospital. It's o-only m-m-mild hypothermia. I n-need h-heat, m-m-movement and w-warm b-b-beverages, not h-hot. I'm n-not in d-d-danger of l-losing any l-limbs. I w-w-was only out f-f-for m-maybe f-fifteen minutes."

"Just fifteen?" The woman commented skeptically. "I'm sorry, Doctor, but I don't know that you'd be able to accurately guesstimate the time you were outside. We'd like to play this safe. You're shivering hard and your symptoms suggest that you've been outside a while."

Spencer forced himself to move, sitting up just slightly. It slid his bottom so that he was sitting next to Morgan instead of on him, leaving his legs draped over the man's lap. Morgan kept an arm around him, the other hand going to rub Spencer's calf in a soothing gesture, apparently not caring about Spencer's wet clothes. The younger man looked right at the EMT to try and make her understand his words. "I w-w-was out f-for f-fifteen minutes, g-give or t-t-take f-forty f-five seconds. I c-c-can s-see the t-t-time and I k-know w-w-what time it w-was when I w-went out."

When the woman continued to give a skeptical look, Rossi stepped in, moving up to squat alongside Britney. "Reid has a…exceptional memory." He explained to the woman. "It probably took him about ten seconds to look at the clock and calculate the time he was out there. If he says it was only fifteen minutes, I'd say he's right." Then he turned his eyes to Spencer. "But you should still go to the hospital for your nose, kiddo. Let them set it right or you'll end up with a big knot there."

"N-No!" Spencer argued. He tried to sound forceful, hating that it came out sounding pitiful and petulant instead. His eyes drifted to Hotch, begging understanding, then over to Morgan. Didn't they understand that he didn't want to go? That he didn't want to end up with the medication they would undoubtedly try to force on him?

Again it was Morgan who stepped up to the rescue. "Why don't we just set his nose here, since that's what he wants, then we'll get him back to the hotel and get him warmed up. We'll be flying home tomorrow, so we can compromise and say that he'll see the doctor at Quantico before he gets cleared back for duty again."

"Fine." Hotch said with a nod. To him, that was obviously all that needed to be said. His decision concerning his team was final. Spencer knew that if Hotch hadn't agreed, he would have found himself in the back of an ambulance on the way to the hospital. There was just no refusing their Unit Chief.

Britney shook her head as she sighed. "Fine, but this is going to hurt. I don't have all the things here to numb you up properly." She turned her head, looking toward the back of the room, which Spencer was just realizing was the Chief's office. Her partner stood at the back of the crowd there. "Bring the bag over, would you, Steve? You got the injections in there?"

"Got em!" Steven replied as he started to make his way over to them.

That had Spencer going stiff all over again. This time, though, he didn't have to say a word. Hotch took care of it. "No narcotics." He said sternly.

Britney tipped her head up to stare incredulously at him. "What?" Her eyes went over to Spencer, who nodded, and then back to Hotch. "Sir, this is going to be quite painful. I imagine his face is already severely painful. I understand you're all big, bad, FBI agents, but he needs something for the pain."

"His medical records clearly state that Dr. Spencer Reid does not take pain medication except by non-prescription or, in case of extreme emergency, non-narcotic."

Rossi put his hand on the woman's shoulder to draw her gaze to him. "You can't force it on him. If he could talk without stuttering and shivering, he'd be telling you the same thing. He doesn't take narcotics or anything like that. Trust me, he'll be fine." Rossi's eyes flashed up to Morgan. "Morgan's got him."

"That's right." Morgan added. His one arm tightened around Spencer and his other locked around the younger man's legs. "Grip onto me, pretty boy. Trust me, this is going to hurt."

"I k-know." Taking a deep breath, Spencer tried to prepare himself. "N-Not m-m-my f-first broken n-nose."

Britney was grumbling to herself as she and Steve sifted through their bag. It was easier for Spencer to focus on Morgan's voice, though, as his friend laughed. "Really? Sounds like a story to me. How many times, kid?"

Gulping as he saw the cotton balls come out, Spencer felt himself pale a little. "F-Four."

That drew almost all eyes to him. Each one of his teammates seemed surprised first, before understanding flooded their gazes. They all remembered how much he'd been bullied as a kid. Though they didn't know the rest of his history…

Trying to dispel that, Spencer sought to break the tension, his eyes never leaving the EMT's hands. "One t-t-time I w-was walking t-t-to the l-library. I w-w-was r-reading and w-walking. I d-didn't r-realize I p-put on t-two wrong s-s-shoes. I t-t-tripped when I s-s-stepped on a r-r-rock and f-fell n-nose first into my b-b-book. Broke i-it o-on i-imp-pact."

As he'd expected, his friends laughed at him, effectively breaking the tension, just like he'd wanted. He didn't mind his friends laughing at his expense. He knew it wasn't done in a malicious sense.

His humor faded, though, when Britney moved onto her knees beside the couch, gloves on her hands. She held a cloth in her hand. "Ok, Dr. Reid, I'm going to need you to blow into this for me to clear out your nose."

"I k-know the p-p-procedure." He took the cloth from her, prepping himself for the pain that was about to come. He used a trick he had learned a long time ago and pulled down inside of his brain, trying to effectively shut off the outside world. It allowed him to do what was necessary to clear the blood from his nose without it making him pass out. Then he braced himself, his body going tense and his hands trying to lock into his pants. Morgan's arm wrapped tighter around him and the older man took Spencer's hands, putting them on his arm and whispering for him to squeeze.

After that, Spencer tried not to pay attention. He closed his eyes and let the paramedics do their job. He hissed when his nose was first set, his hands tightening on Morgan's arm without him realizing it, and he had to bite his lip to keep in the moan when she finished, ending it by stuffing cotton balls into his nose. By the time she was done, he was dizzy, but still conscious.

"There we go." Britney said, stripping her bloody gloves off. "Are there any other injuries, Dr. Reid?"

As she'd been working, her partner had been taking his vitals, testing his heart rate and checking his fingers. Spencer realized that his shoes and socks were off and the man was inspecting his toes. He'd been too wrapped up in trying to ignore the pain in his face that he'd blocked out almost all other sensations.

"Dr. Reid?"

He blinked, turning to look at the woman still kneeling beside him. What? Oh, that was right. She'd asked about other injuries. He debated for a moment, mentally running an inventory of his body. His wrists hurt from the handcuffs and from how he'd twisted his wrists around a little and the heat was starting to come into his body, making his limbs tingle, but nothing was serious. His ribs weren't broken, he knew that. Just simply bruised. There was no point in having her look at them. "No, ma'am." He managed to say without a stutter.

"Then I suggest you get back to your hotel as soon as possible. Take a warm bath and then get dry and get in bed. Try to eat some lukewarm soup, maybe drink some tea."

Spencer zoned her out. He knew what he had to do. He'd read plenty of books that spoke of how to treat hypothermia. Not that he would tell her that. If there was one thing he'd been trying to learn, it was when to keep his mouth shut. His team tolerated his babbling and incessant amount of information, but he'd seen firsthand how it could make other people annoyed or confused or uncomfortable. Sometimes even angry. So he resisted listing the facts he knew as well as the statistics that went with hypothermic patients.

"You ready to go, pretty boy?" Morgan's warm voice was in his ear, pulling him back to the present moment. A part of Spencer realized that he was a little disoriented, a little spacey, and that wasn't healthy. But he didn't say anything on it. All he wanted was to get back to the hotel and take a couple aspirin before wrapping up in his nice warm bed. "Yes." He finally answered.

Morgan shifted them, leaving Spencer alone on the couch as he stood. But before Spencer could rise and join him, Morgan was picking him up once again. Spencer mustered up a small scowl that came out looking more like a pout. "I can walk." He was proud that he wasn't shivering so hard he was stuttering anymore.

A chuckle sounded right by his head. "Sure you can. But, being barefoot and all, I doubt it'd be a good idea to walk through the snow to the car. Just be quiet and let me carry you, all right? JJ went to go get the car."

He really should have protested a little bit more. But exhaustion was starting to settle in and Morgan was still so warm. Really, who would have thought that muscle man Morgan would be so absolutely comfortable?

"Morgan, wait." Hotch's voice was a quiet murmur near them. "We need to ask him some questions."

"Can't it wait to the hotel, Hotch? Kid's soaked straight through. He needs to get warm an in dry clothes before he gets sick."

"Fine. We'll wrap things up here and be there within the half hour. You and JJ keep him awake for us and get him dry." A pause. Then, "Take care of him for us, Morgan."

Something was draped over top of Spencer at that moment. He didn't bother trying to figure out what it was. His eyes had slid closed once more. It was easier to focus on not feeling the throbbing in his face if he wasn't trying to look at the room moving around him.

Once again Spencer pulled inside of his mind, shutting out the world. He did as he'd always done when the pain became too much; in his mind's eye he pulled up a book and lost himself in the words, using it as a buffer against reality.

NEXT PART

When awareness finally seeped back into Spencer was as he was being carried into the hotel. A vague part of him had recognized that he'd been riding in a car and as he was picked back up in Morgan's arms once more. That was when he'd pulled back to himself, checking the surroundings around him. They were in the hotel. The elevator, to be specific. Then Morgan was moving again and Spencer closed his eyes. There was the sound of the door and then Morgan's grip was shifting, lowering him to his feet.

His legs shook underneath him, embarrassing him. He was grateful that Morgan hadn't let go of him. His friend's voice was gentle when he said "I've got you, Reid. Just hang on. JJ, why don't you go fill the tub up?"

"I don't need a bath." Spencer mumbled, drawing their eyes to him. He forced his eyes open. "A bath for hypothermic patients is to start to bring their core temperature back up. I've been gradually warming ever since Morgan pulled me out of the snow. What I need now would be warm tea and dry clothes. After that, just a bed." Again, he resisted saying the facts in his mind, trying to keep his words as simple as possible. Not because they wouldn't want to hear it, this time, but because talking _hurt_ and he didn't want to do too much of it.

A female chuckle drew Spencer's eyes to where JJ stood by the door. "Why don't I wait in the hall while you two take care of that?" She said impishly. "Call me in when it's safe." Before she left, though, she gathered a washrag and a bowl of water, setting them on the dresser. None of them said anything about it, or about the blood that had dried on Spencer's face and neck.

As she shut the door, her words sank in. Spencer couldn't stop himself from wincing. His hands weren't completely numb anymore but his coordination wasn't back to normal yet, which meant that he was going to need help like JJ had just hinted at. That was just great. Morgan was going to have to help him get dressed!

"Come on, pretty boy. One foot in front of the other. Let's get you by your suitcase and get these wet clothes off."

Blood filled Spencer's cheeks with heat. He limped toward the bed, getting slightly steadier with each step. Maybe this wouldn't be too bad. Maybe he could get most of it on his own. His trembling wasn't as bad as it had been, but the cold felt like it had settled into his bones. It was almost like he was shivering internally.

"Lean right here for a second, kid." Morgan told him. He propped Spencer up against the front of the dresser. Then, before Spencer could say anything, Morgan was grabbing the bottom of the sweater and pulling it up and off of him. It landed with a wet plop on the ground. It made Spencer feel a little colder, but a lot lighter. The sweater had been wet and heavy.

"I can get the rest." Spencer told him, bringing his hands up to his shirt. "If you wouldn't mind gathering clean clothes for me, please."

"No problem."

While Morgan moved to the suitcase, Spencer forced his fingers to loosen his tie and pull it off and then unbutton the top two buttons of his shirt. Next he started to grab the bottom of his sweater vest. Then, with a mental shrug, he grabbed the bottom of his button up shirt as well. It was an effort, but he pulled the both of them over his head. It made the world spin a little when they brushed against his nose. Agony exploded in his face and his stomach protested to the movement.

He must have made a sound because Morgan was there, taking hold of his arms to brace him before he could slide down to the floor. "Woah there. You gotta watch that nose, man." He said. Spencer didn't pay any attention. He was fighting to stay afloat under the waves of pain from his face and stomach.

Suddenly Morgan's hands tightened and then went completely still. Confusion lit Spencer's eyes as he looked at his friend's face. He saw Morgan's gaze was trapped downward. Tension filled Spencer when he realized what it was that Morgan was looking at. "I thought you said you weren't hurt anywhere else?" Morgan hissed.

A soft shiver ran down Spencer. He knew that sound of coiled lethality in Morgan's voice. His friend was ready to commit violence. "Nothing significant." He whispered.

"Nothing significant, Reid? Your stomach is black and blue!"

That drew Spencer's eyes down. When he saw his stomach, he winced again. It really did look bad. His whole right side was one giant bruise. "Nothing is broken, Morgan. I've had worse before." He brushed it off as best as he could. "Now, could you hand me a shirt? This room is cold."

A long minute passed before Morgan shook his head. "Let's get you wiped down first, kid. You don't want blood on your fresh clothes."

The two stayed completely silent as Morgan took up the rag and wiped Spencer down until all traces of blood was gone from his skin. He made sure Spencer was steady before taking the bowl and rag into the bathroom and setting them on the counter. Then he came back over, handing Spencer a clean shirt. The two worked quietly, putting the clean clothes onto Spencer's body. When it came time to do the lower half, Morgan discreetly turned around so Spencer could get dry boxers and sweats on. When that was done, Morgan bundled him into the bed, tucking the comforter around him. Then Morgan took a moment to change his own clothes before going and letting JJ know it was safe. She came in bearing a tray with a cup and a bowl on it.

After settling the tray on his lap, JJ brought a hand up, smoothing it over his hair. When he ducked his head she simply chuckled. "I'll be back up in a bit. I need to go make the arrangements to check out tomorrow before their desk closes, ok? You stay awake, Spence. The others should be here soon."

"I'll keep him up, JJ."

Spencer was busy wrapping his hands around the mug on the tray. A soft moan slipped past his lips. To his hands the cup felt as it if was full of boiling water, though he knew it wasn't. It was just the nerves were sensitive at the moment and the blood flow was returning to his extremities. In response to the sudden heat in his hands, his body gave an almost convulsive shiver. How on earth was it that he was still cold? It was still that internal cold, though. Like his bones and organs were frozen and shivering on the inside.

Warm hands settled over top his, helping steady the cup and lift it to his lips. He wanted to protest that he could do it on his own. His pride demanded that he not take this much help from someone. But he knew that if he tried it on his own it was going to end up everywhere and he needed the heat from this tea. After a few short sips, the two men set the cup down and Morgan was pressing something into Spencer's hand. "It's just ibuprofen, kid." He said in answer to Spencer's questioning look. "It's the stuff you got when you hit your head like, a month ago. You must have forgotten to take it out of your go bag. Hell, looks like you forgot to take it, period. The bottle was full."

Part of Spencer wanted to ignore it. He absolutely hated taking medication for any reason whatsoever. Yet, he knew that he was going to hurt soon, once the shock wore the rest of the way off. Better to stave it off now and let his body get a decent night sleep. He closed his eyes and put the pill in his mouth, allowing Morgan to help him lift the cup to wash it down.

It must have taken longer than he'd thought to get to the hotel and get him changed because, as he and Morgan lowered the cup, there was a knock on the door. Morgan gave Spencer a considering look before he went and opened it. Hotch, Rossi and Emily all filed in, JJ on their heels.

"How you feeling, kiddo?" Rossi asked as he took a seat on the other bed in the room, the one that was Morgan's.

Spencer took a deep breath. "Better." He answered carefully. It really _hurt_ to talk. "Warmer."

Their Unit Chief stood at the foot of the bed, JJ right beside him, looking down at his young agent. "Are you up for a few questions, Reid?"

Another shiver ran down Spencer's spine. Automatically he reached for his cup, wanting something to do with his hands. As more of the numbness wore off, though, the ache in his wrists was settling in. A glimpse showed him there was bruising he hadn't noticed before. Most likely by the next day the bruising would be pretty dark.

While Emily sat next to Rossi, Morgan sat down directly beside Spencer, reaching over to assist him with the cup for another drink. Once it was back on the tray, Morgan moved and slid an arm around Spencer's shoulders, offering warmth and comfort. Faced with his team, Spencer knew he wasn't going to be able to just brush this off. "Yes." He finally answered.

Hotch nodded slightly. "Do you know who did this to you?"

After a pause, Spencer said "Yes."

The room was silent as they waited for him to continue. He dropped his eyes down to lock on the tray. Shame was starting to build up in his gut. This was going to sound pitiful. How on earth would his team respect him once they heard how the past few days had gone? Because he knew they wouldn't just leave it at today's incident. They would want to know what had led up to it.

When it was apparent that Spencer wasn't going to say any more, Hotch crossed his arms over his chest. "Who was it, Reid?"

_Here it comes_ Spencer thought to himself. His eyes dropped even lower. "Detective Jameson and Detective Curtis."

There was the sound of an outcry. He could actually feel Morgan's body tense up. But something happened, most likely Hotch holding out a hand in a gesture for silence. Then his boss spoke again. "We need to know what happened. Start from when we left the station."

The pain in his face was growing stronger as the numbness from the cold wore off. Spencer used it as a focus so he could detach himself from the conversation. Maybe it would make it easier to say. Make it easier to sit here and make a fool of himself before the people who mattered the most to him.

"I saw the two detectives being pulled into the Chief's office and I knew there was trouble. They were in there for thirty three minutes when I realized they were on their way out. The body language they were displaying indicated a high level of anger. Not wanting to be around for that, I took my phone and put it in my pocket and grabbed my glasses. I alerted JJ that I was going to change my contacts and I headed to the restroom."

He had to pause to not only gather courage, but to try and work past the throbbing of his face. When was the pain medication going to kick in? No one spoke in the silence, letting him have his break before he continued.

"When I exited the restroom they were directly outside. I ran straight into Jameson. He grabbed me while Curtis taped my mouth. I tried to break free and I was successful for a short moment but they caught hold of me and brought me back over, where they hit my head against the wall, making me dizzy long enough for them to restrain me with the handcuffs. I was carried outside and, cold and disoriented, I didn't quite realize what they were doing when they unhooked one wrist. Then I was hooked to the front of the vehicle and left there for you all to find."

He knew it was obvious that he was leaving parts of it out. They were used to him describing things in a rush of details that tripped over his tongue in his effort to get them all out. This was short and concise. He hoped they thought it was simply due to his face hurting and not wanting to talk because of that. But they were profilers; they would be able to read him well enough to know better.

"Is there any reason you can think of that they would want to do this to you?"

That had been the question he'd known would be asked and one of the last things he wanted to answer. But there was no denying his unit chief. "Multiple reasons. My status as an agent, my intelligence, my lack of field skills." Spencer didn't realize how bitter the words came out sounding. "Bullies find a multitude of reasons when they look at me. But the final straw was the suspension their chief gave them for harassment." He tightened his grip on the edge of the tray, his eyes closing. "Little genius boy, left out in the cold." The words were soft and laced with more pain than he wanted to show. "That was what they told me."

"What else did they say?" Hotch asked him. "All of it, Reid. Without any more editing."

Well, there was no getting around that. "They told me _'You thought you were better than us? Sending your boyfriend to come harass us because you 'misplaced' your coat. That was bullshit, you little punk.'_" Spencer felt Morgan's twitch at that, but he ignored it, continuing on in a flat voice. _"'You don't even deserve to be an officer. You're just a kid who has more brains than he's worth. You think you're better than us? We worked to get where we are.'_ Then Curtis told me _'That's right. You think you'll get us in trouble for this too, but you can't. Chief already suspended us for two weeks, no pay. Said he'd heard too much about our 'harassment'. Not our fault people are bitches and can't take a damn joke.'_"

A shiver cut Spencer's words off. He rode it out before finishing, his voice the same monotone as it had been before. "Finally Jameson told me _'So, we thought we'd show them who the bitch was here. Let's see how you stand it out here in the cold. If you're tough enough to be a cop, you should be able to handle the hour till your team comes back.'_ Then they spit at me, kicked my face and left. I managed to remove the tape from my mouth so I could breathe and I attempted to get my cell phone from my pocket. I managed to get it out but I couldn't get it up to my hands to call anyone so I waited."

JJ made a soft sound in her throat. "Jesus, Spence."

The arm around Spencer squeezed briefly. "Tell them about the other incidents, kid." He told him. That drew Hotch's attention. Spencer looked up to see Hotch turning a glare toward Morgan. "Other incidents?" He demanded.

Spencer couldn't help but sigh. "It was nothing serious, Hotch." He tried to downplay it. Exhaustion was hitting and he just didn't feel up to dealing with the drama of all this anymore. "Just small things. Comments here and there. Moving my jacket when I wasn't looking, or mixing up my coffee when I was distracted. Hiding my cell phone. One or both rearranged my board. They were all minor things."

"And you didn't think it was significant to bring it up?"

This time Spencer let his eyes slide closed. The day was really catching up with him. He wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. "Like I said, they were minor." He mumbled. "I'm used to it. I get it in some form or another wherever I go."

Another voice spoke, calm and soothing. He thought it might be Rossi. "You get this harassment wherever you go, Reid? People have treated you like this before, at other stations, on other cases?"

"Mmhmm." It was easier to make the soft sound than to form words. His eyes felt so heavy that he didn't even bother opening them. He didn't see the looks the other agents wore. "At an estimated 97.5% of the stations we visit. Usually it's not too bad. Snide comments or jokes, that sort of thing. People deliberately ignore things I ask them to do. I don't mind. I just do it myself."

The team looked at one another, all wearing pained expressions. They'd had no idea that people were treating Spencer like this. If any of them had noticed it, they would have put a stop to it. Morgan looked down at the kid who was slowly sinking into him. "Why don't you tell me when they do this, kid? I'd put a stop to it."

"Cause you can't beat up the officers everywhere we go." Spencer murmured. He looked like he was about to fall asleep right in front of them. "It's never been excessively physical before and words don't bother me."

Hotch looked around the room at the rest of his team. He made a small gesture towards the door before turning back to Spencer. "Why don't you rest a little, Reid? We'll talk about this more tomorrow. You just get warm and get some sleep right now."

The young man just mumbled something incoherent in response. Morgan looked around at his friends, nodding lightly. "I've got him, guys. Go ahead. We'll find you in the morning."

Slowly the others cleared the room. When the last of them was gone, Morgan shifted a little, intending on laying Spencer down. It surprised him when the younger agent actually cuddled in a little closer to him. He felt his lips curve in a smile. With one hand he picked up the tray, setting it on the floor beside the bed. Then he kicked his shoes off and brought himself the rest of the way onto the bed. Their shifting of positions gave Spencer more room to snuggle in, which he did.

Morgan pulled his friend close, unable to resist pressing a small kiss to the top of his head, though he had no idea what possessed him to do so. "Sleep, pretty boy. I've got you here and I'm not going anywhere. You're safe now."

Spencer shifted his body a little. "I knew you'd come." He mumbled sleepily. "You always do."

"And I always will. Now sleep, Reid."


	13. Davey

**Here's another drabble for you. You know, someone pointed out to me that all of these are pretty much about Reid. First, when I got done giggling, I replied that he is my favorite. I can't help writing about him. BUT I'm not so silly that I can't admit that I should try to write about others. So after the holiday, I'm going to TRY to write a short about another team member. Any requests? I won't be something big, just drabble size. But, it'll be a bit of a growing exercise for me :)**

**Anyways, enjoy this one! Oh, and the one I'm going to post after it**

* * *

A loud commotion drew the attention of the BAU team. They broke their conversation to look over at the ambulance where Vivian was supposed to be being loaded in. They could see the paramedics around her, working to hold her down as she thrashed and screamed in their grip. The more they tried to hold her, the louder she screamed.

"You've got to be kidding me." Spencer said with a growl only seconds before he took off at a jog across the grass. He didn't realize that his team was following behind him. All his attention was on the woman on the gurney.

Without hesitation, Spencer shouldered his way through the paramedics until he was right alongside Vivian. "Back up, back up!" he ordered the medics in a voice sterner than any of his team had heard him use before. Spencer didn't even look to see if they were paying attention. He locked eyes with Vivian, trying to give her his best smile. "Hey there." He said in his usual sweet voice. "Looks like you're having a problem here. These men bothering you?"

Vivian's eyes widened for a second. "Get them away from me." She whimpered. Her hands jerked again, trying to grab at the straps that were holding her to the gurney. "Get me off of here. I won't let them take me again! I won't!"

"Of course not." Spencer spoke as if this was the most normal thing. Something about that reassuring and understanding tone had Vivian looking at him again. "I wouldn't dream of letting someone take you again."

"Davey?" Shock spread over Vivian's features, followed swiftly by love. "Oh, Davey! You came!"

Spencer gave her a crooked grin. He kept looking at her as he gestured the paramedics away. He smiled, taking hold of the hands that were now reaching out for him. "Of course I came. Where else do you think I'd be?"

"I didn't think you'd want to see me. Not like this. Not after they…after what they did to me." Tears leaked from the corners of Vivian's eyes and down her flushed cheeks. Spencer let go with one hand to reach up and wipe away the tears. "Not want to see you? You've got to be kidding me. Why wouldn't I want to see such a beautiful angel?"

"You always were a sweet talker."

"Just calling it like I see it." He flashed another crooked grin that had her smiling in return. Spencer squeezed her hand lightly, trying to figure out how to say what he needed to say. He counted on his understanding of the woman's file to get the wording just right. "Now, my angel, I want you to stay calm for me, ok? I know you're a little scared right now. I know all these people can be frightening."

"They're trying to tie me down again, Davey. I can't be tied down. Then I can't get away and he can hurt me."

"Aw, now, angel, you wound me. Do you think I'd let them do anything to harm you?"

Vivian's face eased just a little. "No." She said softly. Then, firmer, "No, of course not. But… the straps."

That part was easy enough. Spencer moved their joined hands, unlacing their fingers so he could lay her hands on the strap. "You feel that right there, angel? That's the buckle to the straps. They're not putting them on to keep you here, but to keep you safe. Riding in the back of the ambulance, well, they need to be able to hold you in place. Otherwise the ambulance could go around a curve and you might try to fly away from us like the angel you are."

A blush filled Vivian's cheeks. She swatted at his hands. "Stop it, you flatterer." She sounded almost girlish.

Spencer winked and smiled. "You ready to let them take you inside now?"

"I am. Thank you, Davey."

Lifting her hand, he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "The pleasure is all mine, I assure you."

A still smiling Vivian was loaded into the back of the ambulance. Before the last paramedic could jump in there, Spencer grabbed his arm. "Listen, she's mentally unstable and I know that you'll be putting her under proper care when she arrives at the hospital, but if you want to keep her from panicking and becoming increasingly difficult on the drive to the hospital, I suggest you act with a little more compassion and understanding. Explain things to her so she knows what you're doing. If she becomes agitated, tell her that Davey said it'll be ok and to trust you. Just don't abuse that trust. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good." Spencer let go of the man and stepped back so that he could load inside. He gave one last wave to Vivian before the doors were shut and the ambulance was taking off.

Emily stepped up beside him, patting his shoulder. "That was pretty good, Reid. You were pretty quick there on getting her calm."

"That was pretty cool, kiddo." Dave chimed in. "You knew just what to say to her."

Annoyed and embarrassed all at once, Spencer shrugged. "I just played into her delusions to ease the transition for her. You can't reason with someone in mid delusion. You play into it and become part of their reality for a short period of time and it becomes much easier to subdue them."

"Just like with our Unsubs." Emily said.

A fire lit in Spencer's eyes when he turned to glare at her. "It's nothing like our Unsubs, Prentiss." He snapped. "She was a wonderful woman with a mental disability. It doesn't put her on the same level as delusional psychopaths. I didn't learn that skill from profiling Unsubs. There's a vast difference between mentally ill and serial killing." That said, he spun and marched away, leaving behind a slightly hurt, gaping Emily.

Morgan put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her from following. "He wasn't really upset with you." He tried to reassure her. At her doubtful look, he explained "Mental health is a sensitive issue with Reid. Trust me, he'll be upset with himself later for snapping at you. He just has a little too much experience with calming down someone in a mental break, that's all." Lifting his gaze to his superior, Morgan added "I'll find him and talk. When we're done, I'll bring him back to the hotel if you don't mind leaving us some keys."

Aaron didn't hesitate to toss him a pair. "Just make sure he's ok, Morgan."


	14. Sensory Overload

**FYI - for any who question what's going on or how it's treated, some of the techniques in here are things I use when my SPD (sensory processing disorder) gets out of hand. :) And I've become much better over the years, so that it only hits me occasionally. Sensory overload is NOT fun. Bleh. So, yeah, anyways, I'll let you read on. No flames please :/**

* * *

Ashley bit her lip as she looked over at where Spencer was standing. There was something wrong with him, she could tell. But what it was she had no idea. Part of her wanted to go ask him. She knew he wouldn't tell her, though. She was too new to the team. Someone that he didn't know and didn't quite trust yet. She wasn't overly fond of him either, to be honest. Sometimes the man reminded her of a walking computer. He also had no real ability to talk to people. It made her wonder why he was in the BAU of all places. They had to deal with victims and police and press; how did he manage it without making a fool of himself or stuttering so hard he couldn't even talk? Watching him, she couldn't help but wonder if he was on drugs. The way he looked was typical of someone using or coming off of using. _Wow, knock one down for Dr. Reid. I can't believe it!_

On the other side of the room, Dave had just noticed Spencer's problem as well. He looked at it not only with a profiler's eye, but a friend's as well. It only took him a minute to figure out what was going on. All the signs were right out there in the open. He didn't even think about Spencer using, despite knowing the boy's history with drugs. No, what he saw was something else entirely. Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed the one number he knew would lead him to someone who could help. When there was an answer, all he said was "Conference room, now. It's Reid." And then he hung up. Moving slowly, Dave pushed away from the wall.

Spencer was sitting in his chair at the table, sunglasses covering his eyes, rocking slightly. He was chewing his lip almost constantly. What really gave him away to Dave was the hand that Spencer brought up. Elbow on the table, Spencer's one hand was cupped over his ear. His other hand was on the table, clenching into a fist. Every sound that went off around him seemed to make him flinch. The rumble of voices from the main part of the station, mixed in with the sounds of phones going off, was just usual hustle and bustle to them all. But Spencer would flinch or his clenching would pick up or his rocking would increase with each random sound.

Instead of heading to Spencer, the senior profiler moved over and shut one of the doors. The other he left open for a moment. Then he walked to the windows and dropped the blinds down. He looked over at Ashley, who was watching him with confusion. "Go close the other windows. Drop the blinds and close them off." He told her. It looked like she was going to say something so he shook his head to tell her to wait. After a long pause, she rolled her eyes and moved off. He made a mental note to talk to her later.

Just as Dave and Ashley finished closing the blinds, Morgan came strolling straight into the room. He took one single look at Spencer and he was moving into action. He shut the door behind him, cutting down the sound in the room. Then he strode over to where Spencer was. He didn't talk to him, though. He squatted down beside him and grabbed the black bag that sat there. From inside the bag he pulled out a bulky pair of black headphones.

In a low murmur, Morgan called out "Pretty boy?" He waited for Spencer to look over at him, even though it only lasted for a split second. That was enough for Morgan. He lifted the headphones and slid them on Spencer's head, covering his ears. Some of Spencer's tension seemed to drain. Then Morgan took Spencer's hand, drawing him to his feet. The younger man was still twitchy, still not quite able to hold himself still, but he followed Morgan over to the couch that was against the wall. After seating him there, Morgan grabbed the evidence board that was beside them, scooting it just slightly sideways so that it blocked Spencer off from the room. He bent behind the board, doing something that the others couldn't see, before straightening back up and moving to the table. Grabbing a massive stack of folders, he brought them over to Spencer.

A minute later he was back by the table, looking over to Dave. "Thanks, man."

"No problem." Dave assured him.

The door to the conference room opened and Aaron and Emily walked in. While Emily looked around in surprise, her eyes taking in everything, Aaron gave a single sweep before shutting the door. His hawk-like gaze locked on Morgan. "Is he ok?"

"Not yet." Morgan told him honestly. "Just caught it. But soon."

Ashley stepped forward, her arms crossing over her chest. "Ok, can someone tell me what's going on here?" She at least had the decency to look around and double check that they were alone before she continued to speak. "Reid was rocking and tapping and acting all weird. What were those headphone things you put on his head and what is going on? He looked, well, he looked like he was…"

"He wasn't." Aaron cut in sternly. They all caught the implications of what she was trying to say there.

The look on Morgan's face was both shocked and angry. "You thought he was on drugs?" He demanded furiously. When she looked around, trying to silently remind him where they were, he shook his head at her. "I don't care, Seaver. There's nothing to hide. He's not on drugs and he's not coming down off of drugs!"

"Well, what was that then?" She was defensive now, trying not to be intimidated by Morgan.

Dave held a hand out to Morgan to stop him from talking. He moved toward the table, staring across it at the newest member of their team. "To be a profiler, you have to be able to understand and read people well. Not make snap judgments based off of what you think you see. You and I both saw the same thing and yet I recognized it for what it was in a much shorter time than it took you to make your judgment of Dr. Reid. What you saw was not a high or a withdrawal, Seaver. It was something known as Sensory Overload. Too many of his senses were being triggered and his brain was overloading so that it was unable to process any one thing at a time. The headphones Morgan put on him would be, at my guess, noise canceling headphones. The reason he was put over there _behind_ a board was to help relieve the visual stimuli as well."

"Sitting back there, he'll be able to focus all his energy on one thing; the files." Morgan added in. "It allows him time to mellow down."

Surprise had Ashley's eyebrows going up. "He suffers from something like this and he's allowed in the field?" She asked without thinking. "What happens if he gets hit by that when we're out in the field?" She paused, looking confused for a second. "Isn't Sensory Overload something that tends to happen to autistic…ohhh." The look on her face clearly stated 'that explains a lot'.

The hard stare Aaron wore grew even harder. "Reid is a perfectly capable agent. How he is when he's in the field is something for me to worry about, not you. Never once have we had a problem with him on the field because of this. I don't ever expect that we will."

"And as for your comment about autism, that's not your business either." Emily piped up. She didn't look too pleased with the woman. "He's a valuable member of our team and a great friend. One of the best. I'd trust him to have my back on the field any day of the week."


	15. Why We're Friends

"Why on earth do you tolerate him, Reid?" Emily demanded furiously. Her arms were crossed over her chest; to keep her from reaching for her gun, Spencer imagined. House had upset her. Well, beyond upset her. He'd pissed her off. Her eyes were blazing and her face was furious. At the same time, she seemed to honestly want to know the answer to her question. Spencer looked around and realized that JJ, Dave and Aaron were all looking expectantly at him as if they, too, wanted to know.

Spencer looked over at Morgan, confused, and then back to the others. "He's a friend." He said. To him, it was as simple as that. "I enjoy conversation with him. When you get past the sarcasm and the acerbic commentary, he really has quite a few interesting things to say." Shrugging, he looked down, slightly embarrassed. "We've sat up for hours before just talking to one another. He's just, he's a friend."

"He's a jerk." Emily snapped. "A jerk with a God complex that has to shove his intelligence onto the lesser idiots of the world."

"Well, yeah, he can be that way sometimes." Pausing, Spencer smiled. "Or a lot."

"If this is the taste you have in friends, Reid, I find it amazing you were able to make friends with us." Dave said with a shake of his head. "Someone who doesn't insult you every other word. It must be an interesting experience."

Annoyance burned low in Spencer's stomach. He kept his mouth shut, though, not wanting to fight with them. Who he was friends with was his own business. Didn't they understand? Couldn't they see that, no matter how much of a dick House was, he was exactly what Spencer needed sometimes? He was a good friend.

To cover up the annoyance and keep himself from saying something he shouldn't, Spencer mumbled "I'm going to get coffee." Before he darted out of the room, leaving behind his confused friends and a frustrated boyfriend.

Morgan didn't hesitate to turn to the others and glare at them. "Real smooth there, guys. Who the hell cares who he's friends with? Isn't that kind of a personal choice for him?"

"That isn't a healthy friendship, Morgan!" Shaking her head, Emily turned to look at him. "I'm surprised at you too. You're usually so protective of Reid, but you let that pompous jerk insult him and pick on him and slam down his ideas like they're stupid. You let him act horrible toward Reid and you don't even protest!"

"That's because the muscled wonder over here is the only one who seems to have any understanding of your precious Dr. Reid."

House's voice caught all their attention. They turned to look as he limped into the room, using his cane to snap the door shut behind him. Instead of the superior look he usually wore, Dr. House actually looked pissed off right at the moment. The others exchanged glances, unsure of how this was going to go. Morgan simply grinned and leaned against the wall.

Even the sound of the cane tapping the ground while he moved forward seemed to show his anger. "Let me ask you one thing, BAU team." Stopping beside the table they stood at, House looked at the three agents. "Are you all really that stupid?"

"Now wait just a damn minute…" Emily began.

She was cut off when House lifted his cane, snapping it onto the table. "No. It's going to be your turn to listen to me. I could hear you in here criticizing me for talking the way I do to the kid. I heard your little comments, all of yours, about what kind of friend I am and the way you quizzed him as to why he'd bother being my friend despite the attitude I show. I'm going to give you your answer. Because, unlike the rest of you, I actually _understand_ the scrawny geek."

Aaron scowled at the insulting name. "Quit calling…"

Another rap of the cane on the table. "I said, be quiet!" he snapped. When everyone was quiet, House gave them a furious glare. "Now, junior's talked about you all plenty of times. More than I ever wanted him to. I've heard how _wonderful_ he finds it to have friends who enjoy him and who don't hurt him. I won't deny he cares about each one of you, though I don't understand why."

Pulling his cane off the table, House braced himself and took a few steps back. "You're so accustomed to his intelligence that you don't stop to think about it most of the time. I'm sure you've all felt what it's like to be the smartest person in the room. Being surrounded by kids or other adults who don't know what you know. How frustrating it can be sometimes to explain your thoughts to someone who so obviously doesn't understand a word you're saying. You look at the other person and you know that, dammit, nothing you say to them is going to make sense because, well, people are idiots."

He snorted and paced away toward their board before turning to look at them again. "But, as frustrating as that gets, you all can find someone who, if not matches your intelligence, at least surpasses it enough that you feel intellectually challenged while you talk. Have you ever stopped your simple little lives and looked beyond your own annoyance at Dr. Reid's rambling and statistics to realize that he is _always_ the smartest boy in the room? Have you ever just listened to his rambles so he can talk, even if you don't understand them? Or do you cut him off because you consider it babbling? Not a one of you stopped your stupid little annoyances to realize something important. He is _always_ stuck explaining things to those around him. And, more often than not, his explanations are only more confusing to you."

Raising his cane, House tapped the code papers that Spencer had cracked just a few days before. "You look at these and you have no idea how he did them. You think it's amazing that he could look at it and just know what it is. You're baffled by the complexity of it, correct?"

Dave was the only one brave enough to say "Yes. Dr. Reid always amazes us with his intelligence. He's a brilliant man."

"Yeah. Did you know it took him twenty seven seconds to figure out the code to this and decode it all?" At their shocked looks, House snorted. "To him, this code was so _simple_ it amazed him that your bad guy would even use something this mundane. He admitted to me that it baffled him that no one else seemed to understand it."

"There are many things he understands that the rest of us don't." Aaron told him. "We understand that. I hope you aren't implying that you think we use him solely for his intelligence. Because he's so much more than just his brain to us."

"Well no kidding." House shook his head at him. "Any idiot can see that. And of course you use him. Everyone uses those of intelligence. That's normal. But this whole discussion was to show you why him and I are friends. Why he tolerates me, even though I'm a…a jerk, wasn't it, Emily?" At her bland look, he grinned back. Then his eyes moved over the others. "When junior and I talk, he doesn't always have to explain to me what he means when he says something. Oh, there's plenty he says that's above my head. There's things he knows that I can't even comprehend. But there are things I know that he doesn't. I may not always know what he's talking about when he says something but I can follow his thought process to see how he got there. We may bicker with one another. We may be rude. I may insult him. But when we get into a discussion and we debate our points back and forth, the rest of it all falls away. We aren't trying to dumb ourselves down when we talk. We just talk the way we are and the way we think and the other understands. We actually challenge one another intellectually, which is a rarity for us both."

For the first time since they'd met him, House looked more human than ever. "Most of the time it's easy being smarter than all the idiots in the room. It's a gift. You see things, do things, that no one else understands and, hell, you manage to save some idiots with it. You learn some new things. But then there are days when it's an absolute burden." All at once he looked exhausted. His eyes traveled down to his cane. They looked distant. "It's the loneliest feeling in the world to know that no one around you understands. It's cruel, to look around and feel like no one nearby really understands you. That," he looked up, a cynical smile on his face. "is why your genius remains friends with someone like me."

The room was silent for a stretch. Then another voice joined them, drawing all their eyes over to the other door. Spencer stood there, leaning against the doorframe and sipping off his cup of coffee. Good humor lit his eyes. "You forgot a few key elements, House."

"You think so? I thought I did pretty well."

"Oh, you did explain certain parts of it, I'll grant you that much. But you forgot to account for all the different variables that make up our friendship. What you spoke of was just one layer. Another layer of it is the fact that your brain, your thought process, absolutely fascinates me." Chuckling, Spencer pushed off the door frame and moved over to Morgan.

There he let his boyfriend slip an arm around him, giving him a brief kiss. Then he looked back to House. "But more than that, House, I'm your friend because I like you. You are a jerk, yes. A huge one. You're immature as well and you're a narcissist. But, you're also amusing, randomly kind, extremely intelligent, brutally honest, and you take people as they are. In fact, you've usually judged the worst about people from the start so there's no way a person can go lower than your expectations. And, above all else, I like you because you're you and that's all I need."

They saw something on House's face then that was one of the kindest expressions they'd seen him wear. "You're not so bad yourself." He answered in a voice that could almost be called fond. "Now, everyone quit shouting about me so I can get back to work." The usual briskness was back, as well as the attitude. He leaned into his cane and made his way toward the door. "Oh and, pipsqueak? When you've got a spare second, come do a differential with me and the team. I'm conference calling them in ten."

Spencer smiled at him. "I'll be there."


	16. Secrets

**Okay, I just found this one and I have to laugh at myself. I wrote this who knows how long ago and I made no other notes to go with it, so I don't even know what's going on :/ I like the scene and I could use it sometime, somewhere, but I don't know what I'd intended for it when I wrote it originally! LOL So, as to what's going on that made this happen, I don't know :P Sorry folks. Still hope you like the little scene anyways**

* * *

"Reid, open this door!" Morgan hollered through the wood. All Spencer could do was stand there and stare. They weren't supposed to be back home yet! He hadn't expected them to solve the case so quickly. In his calculations, he hadn't factored in the determination they would have to solve this quickly and get home to figure this out. He had thought it would take them a little longer and he would have had more time. _If they'd just been a day later, I would have been gone. I wouldn't have to be doing this._

There was more knocking on his door. Still, Spencer stared at it, transfixed. He couldn't move. Couldn't bring himself to go unlock the door. Couldn't make his legs move to retreat to his bedroom and hide or even finish dressing. All he was wearing was a pair of plaid pajama pants tied tight at his waist.

"You have until three to open the door or I'm using the key you gave me, kid!"

Oh God. He'd forgotten he'd given Morgan a key years and years ago. Panic started to churn Spencer's stomach.

"One!"

The panic grew, clawing its way up his throat. He couldn't breathe past it.

"Two!"

What the hell was he going to do? If Morgan came in here, Spencer wasn't sure he'd be able to stand up to his friend. He wasn't sure he could resist begging for his help this time. There was so much at stake here! He couldn't afford to mess it all up.

"Three!"

The sound of the key in the lock was the most terrifying thing Spencer heard. His brain screamed at him to run, but that command didn't fully kick in until the door actually started to open. That seemed to be the trigger that finally set him off. At the first glimpse of Morgan, Spencer spun and raced straight for his dining room window where the fire escape was.

Morgan was just as quick. Right as Spencer reached the window, the older man reached him, grabbing him in a tight hug and yanking him back. Spencer arched his body up, trying to break free, trying to get the hell out of there. He hated to do it, but he snapped his head back to catch Morgan's jaw, pulling his blow so as not to hit and break his best friend's nose. Then he slammed his foot down onto Morgan's shoe, using his heel to create a harder blow. The shock of it made Morgan's arms relax only slightly; it was enough for Spencer to break free and take off for the door. But when he got there, Dave was standing there waiting, arms crossed over his chest, blocking the only exit Spencer had.

"Get out of my way." He told them both. "Please, let me go!" Oh, he hated how his voice cracked.

Dave walked into the apartment, shutting and locking the door behind him. "Like hell we will, kiddo."

"You really think we'd just let you go, Reid?" Morgan added. He was standing in the dining room, between Spencer and the fire escape, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "After all the years we've known each other? We're not letting you go that easy, kid. No way in hell."

The panic grew even stronger. They couldn't be here! They just couldn't! He had to get them to leave. Now! "Please, please!" He begged. He had no shame at the moment. "Please, you don't understand. You have to go! Please!"

"We're not going anywhere." Dave told him. This time, though, his voice was gentle. "We're here for you, Reid. Let us help you. Whatever's going on, let us help you."

"I can't!" The words were raw and full of agony. Spencer brought his hands up, covering his face, hiding the tears that were building.

Morgan stepped forward then, not hesitating to grab Spencer and pull him into a hug. He held the crying man close, looking over at Dave, the two of them even more concerned than they'd been before. What the hell was going on here?


	17. The Wreck

**Here's a sort of unfinished one-shot :P Again, hope you like it!**

* * *

"Come on, Morgan." Spencer urged. He slid his arm around his friend's waist, nudging until Morgan's arm went around his shoulders. "We've got to move. We can't stay here right now." He tried to keep his words low and simple. The blood on Morgan's head suggested a head wound; most likely the other agent had a concussion. That was something that would need to be treated but not right at the moment. There were quite a few injuries they needed to treat. But Spencer knew they couldn't stay here. Staying near the site of their car crash left them too exposed.

Morgan wasn't all the way alert. It took Spencer's continued coaxing; lightly pulling his friend with him, just to get him to walk. With the arm that wasn't around his friend, Spencer rested a hand on his gun. Thankfully that still sat at his hip. He didn't want to be without his weapon right now. Where the hell was the Unsub? He knew that was who had run them off the road. Had he crashed too? Or was he alive, watching them?

He pushed that terrifying thought down and continued to force Morgan to walk with him. They needed to find somewhere safe to hole up for a short while. Somewhere they could assess injuries and figure out a plan. Pain was burning in him like a wildfire and his brain was trying to analyze and diagnose all the injuries to his body, but he pushed that back with sheer will. There was no point in thinking about his injuries right now. He could still walk, even if it hurt more than anything ever had. He had to get them to safety. Morgan most definitely wasn't up to it.

Spencer scanned the trees around them, trying to force his eyes to adjust to the dark so he could keep a lookout for any potential threats. He mentally brought up a map of the area they were in. Guessing from the general area they'd been when they crashed, he tried to think of where to go. If his estimates of their location were off, he could end up getting them more lost than they already were. But wandering around in the trees wasn't an option.

Looking around him didn't help any. It was too dark for distinctive landmarks. There was a large mass in the distance that might be the hill he was thinking of…Spencer sighed. It was their only hope. There were caves marked on that map and they were the best thing he could think of to hide in. The night was getting cool and rain was most definitely on its way. It could be felt in the air.

"Come on, Derek. Just keep walking." Spencer murmured, keeping his friend moving. They had to move, now. Now. "Just a little further and we can rest, ok?"

"M'tired." Morgan mumbled at him.

Spencer flinched and went taunt when a shaft of pain struck him. No, no, not right now. Right now he needed to be strong. He needed to keep them moving and keep them alive. Out of the two, he was the most alert. That meant their safety, their lives, depended on him. "I know you're tired. We'll rest soon, I promise. Right now I need you to keep walking for me, ok? Just keep walking. That's right. That's good. Another step. Another."

Slowly they made their way toward the dark mass. The closer they got, Spencer realized he'd been right. This was the mountainside he'd been thinking of. There were tons of caves here. If they could find one that wasn't right out in the open, they could hide for a short while. Long enough to let Morgan rest and become more alert. Once they were both alert they could find their way out of this.

Suddenly Morgan was stumbling. He took them both to the ground before Spencer could think at all. Later, Spencer would thank the Heavens—or whatever was up there watching over them—because that fall was the only thing that saved their lives.

Just as he hit the ground, trying not to scream at the pain it created, the sound of a bullet whizzing past registered in his mind. There was no time for conscious thought. Instinct had Spencer rolling away from Morgan, his gun coming into his hands without him realizing how it had got there. In a single instant he calculated where the shot had come from and narrowed down the dark shapes in that direction. He took a risk, aiming for the only shape that seemed out of place. One, two, three shots rang out in the air. There was a guttural cry and then a solid thump.

For a moment he just lay there, panting. Then he forced himself to his feet. He looked to Morgan, making sure his friend was alive. When he found a pulse he could have wept for joy. Then he forced himself to his feet to do what he knew was necessary. Gun still held out, despite the pain in his shoulder, Spencer moved toward the shape he had aimed at, all senses on high alert.

There was no need. When he reached the spot he found the body of a man lying on the ground. One look showed the face of the Unsub they'd just identified earlier that day. The same Unsub he'd seen in the car behind them right before the world had started to fly around him.

Keeping his gun at the ready, he bent, pressing his fingers to the man's neck. Logic told him that the man wasn't alive. The three shots Spencer had fired had all hit, miraculously. But he didn't relax until he felt that there was no pulse. The man was dead. The thought pleased him more than it should have.

When he straightened up, the pain came back, bringing a scream to his lips. He bit down, hard, to keep it locked inside. His hand automatically came to his side to where the worst of it was. The moisture there told him what he already knew. He was bleeding profusely. There was a burning pain there that told him that he'd been cut at some point in the accident. A long cut that was deep, but luckily didn't feel too deep.

There was nothing he could do for it now. So he settled for using his hand to keep pressure on it. Right now he needed to get back to Morgan and get them inside of one of the caves before the rain finally hit. Then he could see about getting them help. Someone would notice they were missing when they didn't arrive at the hotel. Someone would realize that something had happened.

He stumbled his way back to where he'd left more. A sigh of relief slid out when he saw Morgan bracing against a tree, dragging himself to his feet. Quickly the young agent moved over and slid under Morgan's arm. He let go of his own injury to put an arm around Morgan's waist. It was obvious that Morgan was still extremely disoriented.

"Come on, let's get to the caves." Spencer said. He tried his hardest to keep his tone as normal as possible. "We'll rest there. Rain's coming, so we need to get to shelter, now."

"Kid?" The groggy word showed that Morgan wasn't thinking clearly, but well enough to recognize who was with him.

Spencer grit his teeth and started moving them forward again, supporting more of Morgan's weight than he should have even on a good day. Today, it hurt like hell. "Yeah, it's me. Just hang on tight and walk with me, now. We've got to move."

"Wha' happened?"

Oh, he really wished Morgan would stop talking. Like, now. Talking meant having to respond and it was taking everything Spencer had not to scream under the agony his body was feeling. Yet he knew that Morgan talking was a good sign. So he tried to push beyond the pain even more and answer him in a semi normal tone. The only consolation he took was that Morgan was probably too fuzzy in his mind to recognize any sounds of pain in Spencer's intonation. "The Unsub hit us when we were driving. Pushed us off the road. You've got a pretty bad concussion, I'd wager. I don't know the extent of your other injuries yet. We'll assess the damage when we get to shelter." Which, thankfully, he could see just up ahead.

There was the open mouth to a cave right before them. Somehow Spencer got them inside of it. He helped Morgan over to stand beside the wall and instructed his friend to slide down and sit. Then Spencer took his gun out again. Belatedly he remembered the bag he'd slung on Morgan's shoulder. Once he'd retrieved it, he pulled out the flashlight that was inside and turned in on. With that and his gun, he inspected the inside of the cave.

It wasn't deep, which was a blessing. Nothing else was in there with them, either. Just stone and dirt. It was deep enough that they could sit back from the rain when it came but not so deep to worry about anything being inside. He could still easily see the light from the entrance when he reached the back.

Laboriously he made his way back to Morgan. His friend was sitting against the wall still, a few feet in from the entrance. Far enough that the rain wouldn't hit him when it started. Which, Spencer noticed, it sounded like it was. Lightly now, but he figured it would be pouring soon. The clouds he'd seen rolling in before it got dark had been pretty nasty looking. The weather report had called for a downpour overnight.

While Morgan sat there, his eyes closed, Spencer knew he had to take care of himself quickly. He didn't want Morgan to see the extent of his injuries. The older man had a tendency to worry about him too much. Right now, Morgan needed to focus on Morgan.

Spencer dug in his bag, trying to find anything to help. He was grateful he'd had the presence of mind to grab his go bag; the clothing could be used as bandages. Not to mention the flashlight he had in there as well as a few power bars, a bottle of water, and Morgan's gun, which he'd tossed in at the crash site.

Gritting his teeth, Spencer stepped further into the cave, away from Morgan. Then he lifted his shirt and tried to use the moonlight to inspect the damage there. It hurt just to pull up on his shirt, which wasn't a good sign. The pain he felt in his shoulder and arm suggested that he'd most likely fractured his clavicle. Painful, but not life threatening. His right wrist felt like it might be sprained as well. What concerned him, though, was the gash on his side. It was at least twelve inches long, starting near his bellybutton and wrapping around his side, up to his ribs. Pain in his stomach told him he'd most likely sustained damage to a few ribs as well.

The cut was the most pressing matter. He took the bottle of water and poured some of it over the cut, hoping to wash out any debris that might be in there. It stung more than he'd thought it would. All his effort went into not making a sound. Blood was streaking down his side and his pants. He'd have to be careful to hide that from Morgan.

The only thing he could do was wrap it and hope that it would stop bleeding. With that in mind, he grabbed a couple shirts and the pocket knife in his bag and proceeded to cut bandages. The sound drew Morgan's attention. "What's that?" the older man slurred out. His head shifted like he was trying to look around the cave.

"I'm just preparing bandages before I come check your thick skull." Spencer said. It wasn't really a lie. He was going to check Morgan's head and he was preparing bandages. There was just no need to tell him all the truth. He watched as Morgan settled back down, one hand coming up to his head to rub lightly at his forehead. "Damn, m'head hurts." His friend moaned.

Spencer tried to work fast. He took the bandages and made quick work of wrapping his stomach, moving it around and around until he had it nice and tight. If that didn't stop the bleeding, well, he was out of other options at the moment. Once that was done, he had to stand for a moment before he could get his breathing under control.

Only when he was sure that it was normal sounding did he let his shirt drop and started back to Morgan, hands full of makeshift bandages. It hurt to move, but there weren't other options at the moment.

Carefully he knelt down beside Morgan. "I need to look at your head, Morgan. And I need you to tell me where else hurts. Are there any other injuries?" While he spoke he brought gentle hands up to look at the side of Morgan's head where the blood was coming from. There was a gash there that probably hurt like hell and was most likely giving the agent one hell of a headache, but it didn't feel like there was any severe swelling or any cracks in the bones under his fingers.

Morgan hissed at the pain from where Spencer's fingers were probing. That pain seemed to bring him back to himself a little, though. His voice was slightly steadier when he spoke; less slurred. "Think my wrist is broke." He lifted a hand, inspecting it. Pain flashed over his features. "Yeah, I'd say it's broke. The rest of me aches like a giant bruise, but nothing too bad. I've had worse on the rest of me after a day at the gym."

Sitting back, Spencer grabbed his bandages, looking at Morgan's eyes as he did. They seemed a little clearer. His friend was definitely more lucid. Those were positive signs. "Don't downplay anything, Morgan." He warned him seriously. "I can't help you if you pull the alpha male act and try to cover up your injuries." _Even though you're doing exactly what you're accusing him of._

The corner of Morgan's mouth quirked. "I know, kid. I feel ok, trust me. Just wrap my head and maybe wrap my wrist. We'll move from there. You check our phones for service yet?"

"Not yet. Been busy trying to get you to shelter. It's starting to pour outside, you know."

"Scared of a little rain?"

"You have something against being warm and dry?" Spencer fired back.

The gentle teasing was actually easing both their tension a little. It made them more relaxed as Spencer wound some cloth around Morgan's head, trying to stem the bleeding to his scalp. It wasn't the best but it would do the job for now. Morgan kept calm through it all, though he closed his eyes when the pain hit him.

"Touché, Reid." He joked once Spencer was done with his head.

Breathing through his own pain, Spencer moved to sit by Morgan's legs, reaching gently for his hand. There was a high likelihood, judging by the swelling and Morgan's earlier assessment, that it was broken. Spencer checked the color by using the flashlight, making sure circulation was going good. He touched a finger "Which finger am I touching?"

"Middle." Morgan answered. "How bad was the crash? Who hit us? Are they ok?"

Spencer looked down at the hand in his. Sensation was ok. Now to test motion. "Can you move your fingers at all?" he asked. For the moment he ignored the other questions. When Morgan just barely wiggled his fingers, it had Spencer wanting to sigh with relief. Maybe it wasn't severely broken. Maybe it was just a light fracture. There was no way to tell until the man got to the hospital.

"Ok, stay still for a second. I need to get something to splint this with." In his mind he ran over everything he knew about field treatment of injuries. There wasn't much around him to work with to create a splint. After that, he needed to make a sling, so long as Morgan had no neck injuries. No, the older man would have said if he did.

Carefully Spencer reached out, snagging his go bag and bringing it toward him. Even that simple movement hurt.

"Reid, man, tell me what happened." Morgan's voice was even steadier than before. He really was coming back to himself. _It really would have been nice if he'd stayed foggy at least long enough for me to do this_ Spencer thought. Almost immediately he chided himself for that thought. _Better that he's clearheaded. That means that he can't have as severe a concussion as I'd suspected. I'm not thinking as clearly as normal or I would have seen that earlier. Clear your head, Spencer! Now is not the time to let panic or shock settle in._

In his bag he found what it was he'd been looking for. A magazine that Emily had given him, teasing him that he should read it. What it was, he had no idea. He hadn't even bothered to look at it before he'd shoved it in his bag. Now he brought it over and was thankful that he had it. It was perfect.

"This is going to hurt." Spencer warned him. "Let's just deal with this first. Feel free to scream if you need. I'm sorry."

With that for warning. Spencer took Morgan's wrist and held it out, bringing the magazine around it. He put the top against Morgan's palm, leaving the bottom on his forearm. Then he curled it around his friend's arm. Holding it in place, Spencer ignored his own aching wrist and grabbed some of his bandages. Carefully he worked the bandage around, wrapping the magazine and the arm both with the material. Not so tight as to cut off circulation, but tight enough to immobilize it. Somehow Morgan kept absolutely silent through it all. Spencer was amazed.

Neither one of them spoke through this, each one locked in their own pain. After a few minutes, Spencer finally got the whole thing wrapped. Then he took the biggest shirt he had and cut it with the knife until it was the shape he needed. Once that was done, he created a makeshift sling for his friend, tying it behind his neck. When he got it in place and adjusted, he saw the slight relief on Morgan's face. "Damn, kid. Where'd you learn all this?"

"Read it." Spencer replied in a clipped voice. Now that he was done, his pain was pushing back to the front of his mind. He tried to shove it back down. There were still things that needed to be done. He patted his pockets until he found his phone, pulling it out and checking it.

A sigh slid past his lips when he saw his phone was on, but there was no signal. "No signal in here. There wasn't one while we were driving, either. We must be in a dead zone. That's just great." The sarcastic comment slid out before he could stop it.

Morgan's good hand reached out, touching his leg. "Reid, talk to me. Tell me what happened. It's all a little fuzzy."

Sighing, Spencer shifted his weight, moving to lean against the wall as well. It didn't really ease the pain on his stomach but it was better than sitting hunched over. "The Unsub was in the car behind us. We saw him just a minute too late and he rammed his car into ours. I remember the car rolling, but beyond that, I must have passed out. There's a small knot on my head but I'm not suffering any signs of a concussion. It just knocked me unconscious. When I came to, the car was smoking. I was afraid it would catch on fire."

He paused, taking a breath to try and ease the pain in his ribs. Sweat dripped down his brow despite the chill that was settling into his bones, something he knew wasn't a good sign. Mixed in with the weakness and the way his breathing was a little more rapid than normal, he knew his body was in the mild stages of shock.

"You were just gaining consciousness. I managed to get myself out of the car and I rushed around to the driver's side." No need to tell of how he'd stumbled and fallen and how he'd almost thrown up as he'd moved, or how his heart had been pounding with terror. "You were awake but you weren't quite lucid. I got you out of the car. Once you were on the ground, I grabbed my go bag from the back because I knew we might need the items to patch us up if help didn't come. Then I took your gun so you wouldn't lose it and put it in the bag. After getting it on your shoulder, I started moving us to find shelter. I knew rain was coming and I didn't see the Unsub anywhere. I was worried he would find us before I got us safe."

Tension had Morgan's body taunt. His hand moved to where his gun usually sat. "Shit. We're sitting ducks."

"No, we're not." Spencer said calmly. In short words he described their walk through the woods. Tripping and falling and the gunshot that had gone past them. When he explained how he'd fired and hit the Unsub, Morgan let out a surprised laugh. In the minimal light from the flashlight, which Spencer held pointed at the opposite wall, he could see Morgan grinning at him. "Nice shot, kid."

"Yeah, well. It was nothing more than pure luck that I hit him. I checked his pulse and he was gone, so I moved back to you and brought us here right before the rain started. The rest, you should remember."

"So you practically carried me in here, huh?" Morgan said with a chuckle. "You've got to be packing more muscle than you look like. I know I'm not a light guy."

Wasn't that the truth? "When adrenaline is up, studies have shown that people can do things that they otherwise would never be able to do. When we feel fear or are faced with a dangerous situation, our body undergoes a change. The stressor stimulates the hypothalamus. When that part of the brain is alerted to danger, it sends out a chemical signal to the adrenal glands, activating the sympathetic system, which sends the body into an excited state. These glands release adrenaline and noradrenaline. Together, these hormones raise heart rate, increase respiration, dilate the pupils, slow down digestion and allow muscles to contract."

When Morgan said nothing, Spencer continued to ramble, knowing that Morgan probably didn't care really. But Spencer needed something to focus on. "When adrenaline is released by the adrenal medulla it allows blood to flow to your muscles easier. This means that more oxygen is carried to your muscles by the extra blood, which allows your muscles to function at elevated levels."

"Leave it to you to break a compliment down into a lecture on the human body." Morgan's words held just enough of a teasing note for Spencer not to take offense to it, though he felt his cheeks flush slightly with embarrassment. "Sorry." He mumbled.

Morgan's good hand, which was on the side by Spencer, moved to rest on his friend's leg and pat gently. "Nothing to say sorry for, kid. I was just teasing." He stopped patting Spencer's leg, moving his hand back to his lap. Then he asked "How about you, though, kid? How're you doing?"

That was the question he'd been dreading. "Oh, I'm fine." Even as the words left his mouth he cursed himself. Morgan would know that was a lie. Everyone knew that he said he was fine when he wasn't.

Sure enough, Morgan scoffed. "Is that a real 'I'm fine' or the 'I'm fine' that really means 'I just don't want you to know I'm hurting'?"

_Damn having friends who not only know you well, but are good profilers on top of it! _"I'm ok, Morgan. A little tender but ok." There was no way he was going to tell his friend about his injuries. That would only bring out the protective side of Morgan and he just didn't need that. He needed Morgan to stay focused. "We need to figure out how to get out of here. If we stay in this cave, it's going to get cold. Plus, there's no guarantee that anyone would find us here. We don't have a cell signal for Garcia to trace."

"We'll have to risk walking in the rain if we want to get help. Doing that, we'll get even colder than if we stay here."

"I don't carry anything to start a fire with." Spencer leaned his head back against the cave wall and tried to fight off a shiver. He was so cold! "So we can't create heat that way. But if we walk, we'll not only be cold and wet but the bandages will be as well." Logic told him what needed to be done. The only thing was, he knew Morgan wouldn't like it. At all.

His silence must have been more telling than he thought. Morgan's firm voice filled the cave "What are you thinking, Reid? And why do I have a feeling I won't like it?"

A wry grin spread over Spencer's lips. "Probably because you don't like anything that doesn't involve a hands-on approach on your part." He quipped. Then the teasing note disappeared and he let out a soft sigh. "You hit your head pretty hard, Morgan, and while there are no signs of a serious concussion, you probably shouldn't move too much in the rain. The last thing we need is for you to suddenly get dizzy and pass out somewhere along the way. But…one of us needs to go for help."

In his mind, Spencer counted down the three seconds it took before Morgan blew his top. He wasn't disappointed. His mind had just reached one when Morgan bellowed "Hell, no!" There was a pause, during which Morgan winced, his good hand coming up to his head. "I'm not staying here while you wander in the rain and the dark to get help, Reid. Just get that right the hell out of your head. Now."

"It's the most logical solution at the moment. We can't sit here and hope that someone will find us. The statistical probability of that happening is beyond minimal. Our likelihood of rescue grows exponentially if I can make it to the road and potentially to a spot where I get cell phone service."

"I'm not staying here and waiting."

Spencer turned to scowl at his friend. "Stop being so hardheaded, Morgan. It's better for you if you stay here."

"I'm not staying."

This time Spencer grumbled a little through his scowl. He pushed away from the wall, trying not to gasp at the pain that exploded in his body, and somehow he made it to his feet. For a second he blessed him being out of the flashlights beam so maybe Morgan wouldn't see that he had to brace his hand on the wall to try and hold himself upright as he worked to control the dizziness.

_Definitely in shock._ His brain told him. _Who knows how long you were bleeding before you woke. Then you bled the entire way to this cave. Your body is going into shock. If you don't get medical assistance soon you could lose consciousness and your heart could potentially stop._ That wasn't something he needed to happen. He'd scare the hell out of Morgan if he suddenly collapsed and didn't wake up. That was why he knew he needed to go and get help. Sitting here would only make it harder on him. If he was walking, doing something, he could hold on a little longer.

While he'd been breathing and thinking, Morgan had rose as well so that they were now standing side by side. "Hey, you ok there, pretty boy?" He heard his friend ask.

"Fine." Spencer said before a shiver overtook him. "Just cold." It was true, he was beyond cold. Let Morgan attribute anything he noticed to that fact. "If you're insistent on coming with me, I won't be able to stop you. So let's get the bag and get going."

Spencer gathered his go bag, keeping out his flashlight and his gun. He didn't want to be without either. Thankfully, his holster was still at his hip, so he slid his gun in there. Outside, it was steadily growing darker and darker. He hated the little hitch his heart gave at the idea of being trapped in the woods or in a cave in the total dark. A panic attack was the last thing he needed at the moment. The absolute last thing.

When Morgan took the bag from him, Spencer didn't protest. He didn't really want to carry it and end up hurting himself. But one look at his friend told him that he was going to end up hurting anyways. Morgan may have been feeling better, but he was still unsteady on his feet. He'd be able to walk, but most likely he'd be wobbly or dizzy.

"Come here." Spencer said with a sigh. He stepped up beside Morgan, putting his hand with the flashlight around his waist and nudging Morgan's good arm up and around his shoulders. It took infinite control not to hiss when Morgan put pressure on his shoulder, making his injured clavicle throb even more. _You're not going to be carrying him, so you can do this. You're just helping to keep him steady. That's all. Suck it up!_ He scolded himself. "Now, let's go."

"You sure? I can try walking by myself, kid."

Spencer rolled his eyes toward Morgan as they stepped out of the cave. "Sure you can, Morgan. We'll just let you believe that for right now."

There was a soft chuckle. "You get sarcastic in crappy situations, Reid."

No, he tended to get sarcastic when he was hurt. But he didn't say that. He just bit his lip and kept moving. The instant they were out of the cave, the rain came down on them. Stepping underneath the trees helped to diminish some of the flow but not all of it. With his free hand, Spencer kept hold of his phone, trying to watch for a signal.

This was about the stupidest thing they'd ever done. He knew he should have made Morgan stay in the cave. Hell, he knew he should have stayed there as well. But he couldn't just sit there and wait for rescue. Not with how worried he was about Morgan's head. What if there was swelling on Morgan's brain that they just didn't know about yet? That was more serious than anything else. "How's your head doing?" he asked. It was important to keep an eye on the pain in Morgan's head. If it got too severe, that might signify there was swelling there and then Spencer knew he would have to rush to find help.

"Manageable." Morgan breathed out.

They didn't speak for a while, each one concentrating on walking through the pain. They were almost to the crash site when Morgan finally spoke again. "You ok, Reid? You're breathing a little heavy. You sure you're not really hurt or anything?"

"I'm cold and tired and wet and helping someone walk who is twice my size." Spencer snapped before he could stop himself. "I think I'm entitled to breathe heavily." The truth was, his side was burning, his shoulder was agonizing and his ribs were protesting to each breath. He'd lost a lot of blood and he was paying for it now. But he almost instantly regretted his biting words. Morgan wasn't at fault for any of this. He shouldn't be taking it out on him. "Sorry, Morgan." He said with a quiet sigh.

"Me too, kid."

The more they walked, the closer they got to their crash site. Spencer felt his head spin a little and mentally cursed. He tried to pick up their pace. He wanted to at least get to the site before he took a break. Right at the moment, though, a break sounded wonderful. Still, he couldn't help but worry that, if he sat down to rest, he might not get back up.

Right as they broke into the clearing where the car was, Spencer looked at his phone and saw he had a signal. Thank God! Quickly he pressed the number that was first on his speed dial. Hotch. Next he pressed the speaker button. Morgan's gaze shot over and the two stopped as the ringing echoed in the trees. Then they heard a sound that had Spencer wanting to cry out with relief. Hotch's voice. "Reid! Reid, where are you? Is everything all right?"

"The Unsub followed us." Spencer said, bringing the phone up close. "He ran our car off the road. We're alive, but we need an ambulance, Hotch. Morgan's got a pretty serious concussion."

"I'm doing ok, Hotch." Morgan interjected. "And Reid shot the Unsub. Can you get Garcia to track us out here and get an ambulance, though?"

"She's already on it." The reassuring words from their boss had the two men sagging slightly. "Sit tight and try to stay dry. We'll be there in fifteen minutes, maximum. Are there any serious injuries aside from the concussion?"

"Morgan's wrist is broken, but I splinted it. I'm ok." Again, Spencer failed to mention his own injuries. He didn't want to worry everyone needlessly. Soon enough the ambulance would be there and he'd be taken care of then. No need to make everyone worry about him. They'd already had to do that too many times. The blood that was trailing down his side once again gave lie to his being 'ok'.

"All right. Get in shelter, you two, as best you can. We'll be there shortly."

Spencer hung up his phone and looked around. The best they would get were the trees nearby. "Come on, over here." He gestured to the large tree he wanted, not far away. It was large enough that it would be fairly dry underneath. He and Morgan moved together, taking much longer to reach the tree than Spencer had wanted. When he finally got out from underneath Morgan's arm, he almost gasped at the relief. Everything on him was starting to ache.

Still, he helped Morgan slide down, paying no attention to anything but trying to move carefully. He didn't hear his best friend talking to him. Then he was trying to slide down as well; that was a mistake. He should have stayed standing and just leaned against the tree. The pain in his stomach turned agonizing when he bent and tried to sit, making him drop down before he could control it. His hands shot out to catch him as his backside connected with the ground, jarring his stomach even more. The impact of his hands on the forest floor almost ripped a scream from him. The wrist that was sprained was now throbbing and the other arm was on fire now by his shoulder and clavicle. The jarring had done no good for whatever injury he had up there.

Sweat popped out on his brow and the urge to scream was locked behind his lips. He didn't realize he was panting until Morgan's voice finally broke through. "Reid! Reid! Dammit, Spencer!"

"I'm fine." Spencer managed to gasp out. He grit his teeth once more. Talking wasn't a good idea yet. Nausea was rising up in his throat and the pain was making his head spin more and more.

He felt Morgan's hand on him, bracing on his shoulder and bringing him back to rest against the tree. "Breathe with me, kid. You're breathing too hard and you're going to pass out. Come on, match your breath to mine now." Then Morgan started to breathe slowly and slightly loud, urging Spencer to mimic it.

Doing so actually helped. It took a little while, but his breathing slowed and the dizziness faded just a little. Once it did, Morgan let go of his shoulder and grabbed hold of his chin. He tipped Spencer's face so that they were staring at one another. _Shit. I gave myself away with that one_. He winced a little. Morgan was going to be pissed. There was going to be no hiding this from him much longer.

"I'm going to ask you again how badly you're hurt, Reid, and if you try and play it off as nothing again and I find out you're seriously injured when the ambulance gets here, you're going to be in major fucking trouble. Now tell me; how badly are you hurt?"

Spencer pulled his chin back from Morgan's hand and let his head rest against the tree. Help was on its way. What harm would it to do let Morgan know? "It's really not too bad, Morgan. A sprain in my wrist, I think. My, uh, my clavicle is probably fractured." Without realizing it, he brought one hand up to rest over his stomach. The stickiness there worried him. He'd bled through the bandaging. No wonder he was dizzy. How much blood had he lost? Medical help needed to arrive soon before he really reached the danger zone.

A hand smacked at his cheek, drawing him back out of his brain. Wide eyed, he looked at Morgan. The older man didn't even look sorry. His expression was fierce. "Stay with me, Reid. Don't you pass out on me. Where else are you hurt? Keep talking to me."

Had he really stopped talking for that long? That wasn't good. Spencer blinked a few times to clear his mind. He lifted his hand, looking down at it, noting how red it looked even in the dark. He swore he could smell that coppery scent that blood held.

Morgan started cursing steadily. With his good hand he knocked Spencer's bloody hand out of the way and yanked up his shirt. His cursing only grew louder when he saw what was there. "Fine, huh kid? Doing ok? Dammit, this bandage is covered in blood!"

"Stopped before." Spencer made himself say. His tongue felt slightly thick. It was almost like he was drunk. "Think I moved too much."

"We need to put pressure on it."

Spencer tried to nod but his head was spinning again. He'd held off for so long now. His body just couldn't keep up with it anymore. He barely noticed when Morgan shifted him one handed, laying him out on the damp grass. The coolness of it felt wonderful. He turned his head, letting the cool moisture touch his cheek. For a second he felt peaceful. Then his entire stomach was on fire.

Despite the pain in his wrist, Spencer fisted his hands into the grass and tried to stop his back from bowing up off the ground even as he locked the scream behind his lips. Still Morgan used his good hand to keep putting pressure, apologizing all the while. "I know it hurts, kid. I gotta get the blood to stop, though. We've got to stop the bleeding until the ambulance gets here."

"I know." He murmured. The words were so soft he wasn't sure if Morgan even heard him. He kept talking anyways, though. "Don't you dare let them give me narcotics when they get here, Morgan. Promise me."

"Jesus, kid, how can you think of that right now? I don't know how you're still conscious!"

"Mind over matter." He muttered. Morgan's grip shifted a little, slick from the blood. The pain washed over Spencer like a thick blanket trying to drag him down. He couldn't keep his scream in this time when Morgan's hand shifted a little. It ripped its way out, deep and guttural. The sound of it echoed through the trees. When it cut off, he swore he could hear the echo. It took him a moment too long to realize that the sound he was hearing wasn't an echo of his scream. It was a siren.

"Hold on, kid. Come on, come on, the ambulance is almost here. Do you hear it? Helps coming, Reid."

Of course he heard it. He wasn't deaf. But Spencer couldn't seem to make himself say the words. His tongue felt thick and dry. There was a kind of dark that was coming in at the edges of his vision. It was taunting him with promises of release from the pain. He could just sigh and let go and it would take him under, he knew. Then he wouldn't hurt anymore.

Pain rocketed over his stomach, making him scream again. Morgan had applied a little more pressure. Sobs broke past the scream. "Fuck!" Rarely did he swear, but it ripped out of him.

"Sorry, sorry." Morgan was telling him even though he didn't sound sorry. "You can't give up, kid. You just can't. Open those damn eyes and look at me. They're parking, kid. I can hear them parking. See the flashing lights? They're here. Just open your eyes and look at me. Don't you fade out on me, Spencer! Don't you give up!"

But Spencer knew his body had had enough. He didn't want to give up, wasn't planning on it, but he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. There was too much pain; he'd lost too much blood. Through lips that felt numb, he mumbled "I'm sorry."

The last thing he heard was the sound of the paramedics running toward them and Morgan screaming out "Spencer! No!" Then there was nothing. Blessed nothing.

* * *

**What happens next, well, idk. I never finished this apparently lol :)**


	18. Grief

**As I was sitting here trying to write the end of my next Coming Home chapter, this little idea-thing-came to me lol. So here it is, though it's not much. But it has potential. You know, when I may have to make myself a poll to let everyone pick what story I'm going to work on next when Comfort and such is done. I might include the drabbles as options to pick from. what do you guys think? :D**

* * *

The workday was almost over and, for once, Spencer Reid was very ready for the day to be done. There was nothing he wanted more this day than to hurry home to his apartment. That was a completely foreign feeling to him. He typically enjoyed his work and had no problems seeing it through to the end of the day or even into overtime. Yet today was special. Today, he wasn't going to go home and sit alone. Today, company was coming to stay for the weekend. Company that he hadn't seen in three months, three weeks and five days. Far, far too long in his books. Even his team had noticed how eager he was for the end of the day and had taken to teasing him about it. Just because it was fun, Spencer purposely didn't tell them what he was going to be doing with his weekend. It was far more entertaining to allow them to make jokes and tease him. Despite the fact that they were laughing at him, it was laughter that he considered good; it made him feel loved and a part of a family.

When it was just fifteen minutes until he was free to go, fifteen minutes left that he had to wait, he was already done with his paperwork and was trying to think of some way to distract himself. He'd already done some of Emily's paperwork, as well as some of Morgan's. The sound of his cell phone ringing startled him out of his thoughts and made him jump, earning laughter from Morgan and quiet chuckles from Emily.

"Jumpy, kid?" Morgan teased him.

Spencer wrinkled his nose at the man, saying nothing as he stood up to reach into his back pocket and pull out his phone. He ignored Morgan's continued laughter and pressed the button to answer his phone, slightly curious. The number was local, but it wasn't one he recognized. "Hello?"

"Hello. Is this Dr. Spencer Reid?" A woman's unfamiliar voice asked him.

Even more curious now, Spencer sat back down, furrowing his brow as he reached to pick up his coffee cup. "Yes, that's me. How can I help you?"

"Dr. Reid, my name is Jillian and I work at Providence Hospital in Washington DC. I'm calling in regards to a patient by the name of Destiny Carter. You're listed as her next of kin."

It was as if the bottom dropped out of Spencer's world. He didn't notice the coffee cup slipping from his hand, hitting the floor with a loud thud, coffee flying everywhere. He paid no attention to the way Morgan and Emily both looked up at him and he had no idea how pale he'd become or how wide his eyes were. All he could focus on was the voice on the phone. It took him a moment to find his voice. "Is…is she all right?"

There was a long pause in which Spencer swore his heart stopped. Vaguely he heard someone saying his name, but it was far away, distant. The woman on the phone spoke again and he almost lost it right then and there. "Dr. Reid, I'm so sorry to be the one to have to deliver this news. There was a car crash this evening. A drunk driver ran a red light and hit the cab caring Ms. Carter and her daughter. Summer, while injured, is going to be fine. I'm so sorry, but Ms. Carter's injuries are too extensive. She's holding up, but right now all we can do is make her comfortable…"

What else was said, Spencer had no idea. The phone slid from his numb fingers. _No_.

He didn't notice that Morgan scooped down and picked up the phone, speaking into it, or how his best friend's eyes widened as the nurse on the phone told him that she was delivering such horrible news. All Spencer could feel was this gaping abyss of grief inside of him, threating to swallow him the instant the numbness wore off.

Then suddenly there was an anchor in his world. Hands closed over his, warm and strong and solid, pulling his attention down to the man that was in front of him. Morgan had squatted down so that he could hold Spencer's hands and he was looking up at his friend with so much kindness it squeezed Spencer's heart. The young genius looked at his best friend and words came past lips that still felt so numb. "I, I need to, to go to the hospital." He stammered out. "I need to, to go."

There were no questions. Morgan nodded and said "I'll take you, kid."

For once, Spencer didn't argue. He didn't bother protesting. Anything, to get him there faster. "Thank you."

When Morgan rose, he gradually pulled Spencer up as well, watching to make sure he was steady. That numbness was still there. Reality was off at the edges, waiting to sneak back in on him. For now he moved like he was in a cloud, floating but not quiet knowing where he was going or what was going on around him. At some point he realized he was in the elevator and that everyone was there. Morgan, Emily, Aaron, Dave, JJ, even Garcia. All of them were with him. He assumed they were all going home. That was, until they were outside and the group made an agreement to meet at the hospital. Confusion had Spencer watching them. "You're…you're all coming?"

"Of course." Garcia answered him easily. She put a hand on his cheek, so warm against his cold skin. "We're family, Reid. Whatever this is, you don't have to do it alone. You're not alone anymore, remember? You've got family."

Those words were the first crack in his numb shielding. As Morgan led him to a car, as the man even helped him inside, Spencer fought that crack, but it grew and grew. Through the silent car ride, it grew, threatening to break his shield on him. At the same time, his mind was pleading, begging for things to be different, for them to be wrong. That pleading grew until he found himself not just thinking it, but speaking it as well. "She's strong." He heard himself say. "She'll fight. They, they could be wrong. She's a fighter."

Morgan said nothing because really, what was there to say? What could he do to make this better? He had no idea who this woman even was, though it was obvious she was important to Spencer. However, he knew what the nurse had said. But for now, he thought maybe it was best to let Spencer cling to what he could. Soon enough it would be real for him. Soon enough, he wouldn't be able to lie to himself.

The crack in his shields grew even more when they arrived at the hospital. Walking toward the ER entrance, seeing the bright sign proclaiming emergency, he felt a small shake start to build deep down inside. No, no, this couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening. His body was moving as if on autopilot, without any direction from his mind at all. He headed inside with his team right behind him and made his way to the desk. The woman there looked up, a question on her lips. Spencer spoke first. "I'm Dr. Reid. I, I'm here for Destiny and Summer Carter."

Compassion warmed the woman's face and, when she spoke, he recognized her voice as the one from the telephone. "Of course, Dr. Reid. Summer's asleep right now and resting comfortably. Let me…let me take you back to Ms. Carter's room." Turning as she rose, Jillian—he vaguely remembered her name from the phone call—spoke to another woman. "Ethel, would you man the desk for me for a moment?"

A woman with a kind smile and greying hair looked over at him, sympathy etching her face, almost breaking him. "Of course. Go right ahead, Jill."

Jillian stepped around the desk and gestured to him. "Right this way, Dr. Reid."

She led him through the doors and down a hallway. It was all so surreal. Logically, he knew what she had said on the phone, he knew what was coming. But logic and the heart don't always match up. His heart was begging for this to all be a lie. For them to just be _wrong_. Then they stopped outside a room and Spencer's eyes looked through the window and every shield he'd built just shattered. Reality didn't slip or sneak in, but slammed in with the force of a semi. A low sound of pain clawed its way up is throat to slip past his lips and he swore his knees almost gave out on him. If it wasn't for the hands that reached out to him, bracing him up, he would have sunk straight down to the floor. He didn't even look to see who held him. His eyes were fixed through that window to the woman in the bed.

_Oh, no…no, no, no_. No amount of pleading changed what he saw. Behind him, he heard a few pained sounds as his friends caught sight of the woman lying there. There was a blanket over her, drawn up to her armpits so that nothing below that was visible. Spencer thought to himself that maybe that was a good thing. He heard the nurse by his side, telling him what was going on, trying to explain to him. Some of it was getting through, little snatches here and there, like a badly tuned radio. "…drunk driver caught their cab…crushed her half…driver died instantly…internal bleeding…too much damage to her organs…drugs to reduce her pain…comfortable as possible…"

His heart was crying. Not this. Not her. Not his sweet Destiny. Her arms, shoulders and face were visible and what he saw was bad enough. Cuts and bruises, bandages, blood. Her whole left arm was wrapped in gauze, it seemed, yet he could see the blood staining through it. Half of her face looked like one giant bruise. What was under the blankets…he shuddered slightly. The shape wasn't right and he knew, his mind pulled up images of accident victims he'd seen, the damage there was great.

If anyone was still talking to him, he didn't know. He didn't care. Through the pain he found himself moving, feet carrying him forward, taking him into that hated hospital room. It was almost more than he could take to make himself keep walking in, to move toward the bed. He wanted to turn around and run. He wanted to fall down and sob. No, no. Let this be a dream! Please, please, let this be a dream! He must've made some sound, some noise, because suddenly her eyes opened. That was the final straw for Spencer. The final blow. Those bright hazel eyes, one mostly swollen shut, locked onto him and he was rushing forward, dropping down into the chair by the bed. "Destiny."

"Spencer." The word was soft, raspy, just a shadow of her usual voice. But it was there.

Spencer reached up, wrapping his hands around hers, thankful that her right hand at least seemed undamaged. He had no idea what to say to her. What was he supposed to do? Emotion was clogging his throat, blocking his voice.

She stunned him by giving him a faint shadow of a smile. "I love…you, Spencer."

Tears gathered in his eyes. Why oh why did that have to sound so much like goodbye? He cleared his throat, needing to answer her. Needing her to hear him. "I love you too, Destiny. You're my best friend. You always have been."

"Mine…too…" she whispered. Her breathing was ragged, not quite even. Her eyes locked on him and he couldn't look away, not from her, not now. There was an intensity there that held him. "My sunshine…" she wheezed out. "Take care…her…yours now…"

The pain was worse. So much worse. He squeezed her hand and nodded, trying to make himself voice the words he knew she needed to hear. He had to let her know he understood. She was gripping his hand so tightly, trying to convey the importance of this, and he knew that this was what she had held on for. This was why she had fought so hard until he got here. She needed to make sure he understood and that he was going to do what he had to. In that moment, Spencer couldn't deny it. He couldn't deny what was right in front of his face. Agony flooded him, yet he pushed it aside for just a moment more, giving her the one thing he knew she needed above all else. "I know, Destiny. I remember my promise."

Tension faded out of her at those words. He actually saw her body relax the instant he said them. Her eyes closed and she sighed. "Hurts."

Still gripping her hand with one of his, he lifted his other to stroke it over part of her cheek that wasn't bruised. Heart in his throat, he stared down at a woman who had been his best friend, like a sister to him, and he felt a part of his heart break away. "I know it does. But I'm right here with you and I'm not leaving, okay? I'll stay with you until…" He couldn't finish that, instead just simply saying "I'll stay."

She shuddered a little and her hand tightened on his once more as she obviously rode out a wave of pain. "Let me hear…Frost…" she whispered, eyes moving to him once more. "One more…time Spencer….please…."

Air shuddered out of Spencer's lungs. He stroked his hand over her cheek again and, in a soft voice, began the poem he knew she loved, his voice thickened with emotion, silent tears slipping in rivers down his cheeks. "Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here to watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer to stop without a farmhouse near. Between the woods and frozen lake, the darkest evening of the year."

She smiled and her eyes closed, her body relaxing back into the bed, his soft words the only sound in the room but for the beeping of the monitor. "He gives his harness bells a shake, to ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound's the sweep of easy wind and downy flake."

Spencer felt the tension slowly leaving the hand in his. He heard the monitor behind him change, switching to a sound he knew, a sound that ripped at his heart. He paid no attention to the woman that shut the monitor off, logging the time on her chart. Holding the slack hand in his, Spencer watched Destiny's face as the last of the tension left her, and he whispered the last lines to the poem he had recited for her countless times before. "The woods are lovely, dark, and deep. But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep. And miles to go before I sleep."

The tears that ran down Spencer's cheeks went unnoticed by the young man. He stroked his hand once more over Destiny's cheek before bringing that hand down, cupping both his hands around hers. Bending his head, he pressed a kiss against the soft skin, eyes closing on the agony that was building and building in him. There at her bedside, bowed over her hand, with his friends watching through the glass, Spencer broke in a way they had never seen before. His body shook and shuddered under the force of his sobs. His grief ravaged him.

Though he knew she was gone, he couldn't make himself let go. "Don't leave me." He found himself pleading with her. The tears blinded him but he kept a grip on her hand, pressing his forehead against it. "You can't leave me. You can't!" he sobbed out. Pain reverberated in his words. "Don't leave me. Please. _Please_." His voice choked off and no more words would come. Only tears. Tears that burned like fire and sobs that echoed around that cold, cold room. How long he cried there, he didn't know. All he knew was that hands were touching him suddenly, pulling him back, trying to separate them. "No!" he cried out achingly. He tried to tighten his grip on her hand. "No, please!"

Those hands just kept drawing him back, taking him away from her and out of the room. Then, before he could protest, before he could blink, strong arms pulled him in for a tight hug that was so full of love and support it crumpled his defenses and stilled any protest he could've made. Instead, he was melting into the embrace, the sobs gone but the tears still flowing, a silent testament to his pain. The arms around him tightened and there was a voice in his ear "I've got you, kid. I've got you."


	19. The Cult

No one was more surprised than Spencer himself when Erin Strauss walked into the bullpen that afternoon and went, not to Aaron or Dave's office, but over to Spencer's desk. "Dr. Reid, would you grab your things and come with me, please." The way she said the words made it obvious that this was an order and not a request. Spencer moved slowly to his feet, curiously watching the woman as she stood waiting for him, looking slightly impatient. He grabbed his bag and jacket, the only two things that he brought to work with him. When he straightened, she nodded at him and gestured for him to follow her. At the looks Morgan and Emily were giving him, Spencer shrugged as if to tell them 'I don't know'. He followed the woman out of the bullpen and down to her office.

As they walked inside, she gestured toward one of the chairs by her desk. "Have a seat, Dr. Reid." Erin said smoothly. She took the other chair, waiting until Spencer was settled before she spoke. She dove right in. "For a year now there's been a task force working on trying to prove the illegal activity going on inside of the Genus cult. This cult is suspected of quite a few things that so far, we haven't been able to prove, one of which is the selling of children, as well as some things that are frighteningly typical of many of these cults such as sexual relations with minors. There have also been members that have mysteriously left the group and yet, no trace of them can be found, yet we have no proof of what's happened to them. Now, most of this cult lives on a commune, but there are a few high level members that keep apartments in the city and many of them in fact work in different areas inside of the city. They proclaim that they aren't there to subvert people's free will, just to offer them a safe place to live without judgment for looks or sexuality."

"I imagine they draw quite a few members that way. It would bring in those that feel unloved and unwanted and persecuted for being different." Spencer said slowly. Where on earth was this going? And why was she talking only with him in here?

"Exactly." Erin agreed. "It's been proven that they teach hand to hand combat there, but they proclaim it's only a 'self-defense' course to teach people to defend themselves if someone attempts to attack them for their differences. They claim to be non-violent, living by the creed of a God that does not judge nor hate anyone because of gender, color, sexuality, looks, or beliefs, only off of actions. Their leader, Ashton Blodgett, is a very charismatic man that's managed to not only bring in quite a few followers, but also charm the local officers so that their commune is essentially left alone. Any trouble brought, he's managed to talk his way out of."

Because he still didn't understand where this was going, Spencer kept his mouth shut, sitting back in his chair and nodding slightly to indicate that he had heard what she'd said.

For a moment Erin stared at him. Then she sat back in her chair, folding her hands in her lap. "Let me ask you a question, Dr. Reid, that may sound personal. However, I assure you I have a reason for asking." When he said nothing, she continued. "If you could name one person and only one person that you would trust in any situation, no matter the situation, to have your back and to trust with your very life, do you know who that person would be?"

There was no hesitation for Spencer to answer. "Derek Morgan." He said it in an almost absent way. While he answered her, his mind was already jumping ahead, taking what she'd just said and adding it to what had already been said. The picture that was building in his mind was a surprising one. He couldn't be right. Could he? Yet the next moment Erin picked up her phone and called someone. By way of greeting, she said "This is Section Chief Strauss. Can you come to my office? Thank you." And then she hung up. Spencer was willing to lay down money that it was Morgan she'd called. If he was right, then most likely the rest of his hypothesis was correct as well.

Erin looked at him once more and she seemed to see something on his face that had her smiling slightly. "I assume you've figured out what I'm going to ask you."

"I believe so, ma'am." Spencer said carefully.

"You have the right to refuse. You cannot be forced into this, Dr. Reid. Neither one of you can."

He nodded, falling silent. Right then he wanted to take a few moments to think of this and all the ramifications that would come if he said yes.

A few minutes later there was a brief knock at the door. Once Erin called out "Come in." the door opened and Morgan came walking into the room. The man almost instantly looked to Spencer, who was fiddling with his hands in his lap, before his eyes lifted to look at Strauss. "Ma'am." He greeted her politely.

She gestured toward the chair by Spencer. "Shut the door and have a seat, Agent Morgan."

When Morgan sat, he looked to Spencer once more, a question in his eyes. Spencer blew out a breath and simply waited for Erin to explain it all. She didn't waste any time before launching into the same speech that she'd already given Spencer. This time, when she got done with the speech, she finally got to the meat of what she was calling them in for. "I'm going to lay this out plainly to you two. Three separate times we've attempted to get undercover agents inside and each time, they've done something to tip off Blodgett. The man doesn't act violent, doesn't threaten. He always meets new people outside of the compound first and each time he's met an agent, halfway through the interview he tells them that he doesn't house federal agents on his compound. It was suggested that profilers might be the key to getting inside."

Spencer couldn't stop the question that sat on the tip of his tongue. "But why me?" He blurted out. Flushing, he hurried to clarify his statement. "Of all the profilers you could have chosen, I don't understand why you would recommend me, ma'am."

"There are a few reasons behind the choice, Dr. Reid. Ashton is intelligent and he seems to greatly respect intelligence, something you carry in abundance. Your intelligence also led us to choose you because you'll have the ability, if the opportunity presents, to view any documents that Ashton may have, any paper trails or account numbers where he might be keeping the money he gets from this, and your memory will allow you to recall it without having to keep notations that could get you caught. Also," Pausing, Erin actually looked a little embarrassed by what she was saying next, turning her eyes away from him. "With a change of clothes, you'll most definitely look far from being a federal agent. But we didn't want to send an agent in alone, with no backup at all, just in case things happen inside." She added the last part quickly as if trying to gloss past the first part of what she said. Spencer didn't really care. He knew he didn't look like an agent. It was just a fact of life.

"We've got someone close, an informant, who can get you in the door. Their job is recruitment, finding the right people with the right information to 'join'. You two would have to live on site, unlike some, but you'll have the capability to leave the compound and work in town. At least, if you get past the initial interview." She looked form one face to the other. "You two don't have to agree to this. There's no telling how long it'll take to gather evidence or how long you'll end up being in there. And there are risks involved, just as in any undercover job."

After a pause, Morgan looked over at Spencer briefly, his expression unreadable. Then he looked back to Erin. "Can we have a moment to talk about this, maybe, ma'am?"

"Of course." Pushing back from her desk, she rose to her feet. "I'll step out for a few minutes. I ask that you stay in here to talk. I'm sure you understand."

Spencer nodded absently at her, his mind still racing, thinking through all the outcomes that could come from this. The good and the bad, both. At the same time, he was thinking of what it would mean for him to disappear for who knows how long. He had his mother to think about. Sure, her care would still be paid for. The account that was used for it was well stocked with a nest egg just in case something ever happened to him and the money necessary was drafted out directly, so there was no worry about _that_ aspect of things. Other than her, the only people he had in his life to vanish from was the team. It would be hard to be away from them, but he could do it if he had to. Could he honestly walk away from this, knowing that children were being sold and there was the potential that he could get in and save them if he just manned up and went?

"You in there, kid?"

The question startled Spencer out of his thoughts. He jerked a little before connecting that the voice was Morgan's. Blush heated his cheeks. "Sorry. Yes, I'm here. I was just thinking."

Morgan smiled and shook his head a little. "And that's new, how?" His teasing smile faded away and he twisted a little in his chair to better look at Spencer. "So, what do you think of this, Reid? It looks like the brunt of the work would be on you."

"I have to." The words came out before Spencer thought about them. He realized the truth of it as soon as he said it, though. "I can't walk away and say no, Morgan. I have to go. If they've already tried and no one's managed to get in and they honestly think I'm their chance to get in, how can I say no? I have to."

Gaze firm, Morgan nodded. "Then I'm in too."

"Morgan…" Spencer turned as well, his voice slightly earnest. "You have a lot more to worry about leaving for a while than I do. A home, a dog, a family that will worry about you…"

"My family will understand. This isn't the first time I've worked deep cover, kid." Smirking, Morgan settled back in his chair. "Plus, you think I'm going to let you walk into something potentially deadly and _not_ be there to watch your ass? You attract trouble like a magnet, Reid. Someone's gotta be there to keep you safe."

That had Spencer scoffing lightly and shaking his head. Leave it to Morgan to think of things on those terms. "You know, you can take your protective mode a little far sometimes. If you refused, someone else would go with me. I wouldn't be alone."

"As if that's any better? I'd worry like hell the whole time you were gone, man. No. This way I know you're protected because I'm gonna be the one doing it. Plus, are you really telling me you'd be comfortable with someone else? Some random agent that you're stuck working closely with?"

No, he wouldn't be comfortable with that. And if he was honest, the idea of Morgan coning with him made this all seem just a little bit easier. If he had to be stuck with someone, at least it would be with someone he not only knew and liked, but trusted with his very life every day that they'd worked together. "Fine." He said with a small little half smile. As Morgan got up to go get Erin and let her know of their decision, Spencer looked over and said "Morgan?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Morgan's smile flashed wide and bright. "No problem, kid. No problem."

When Erin walked into the room a moment later, her eyes went back and forth between the two of them. Spencer rose, standing beside Morgan, and the two looked over her desk at her. "We'll do it."

Relief flashed into her eyes and she actually smiled a little at them. "Then let's get you two ready. We need you ready to go as soon as possible. We'll go meet with the team and catch you up to date on everything they have before we get you ready to play your part."

Side by side, the two men followed Erin Strauss from her office, neither knowing fully what they were walking into or what would be waiting for them when they got there. But at the very least, the friends were going to be facing it side by side, and it didn't seem as bad when they thought about it that way.

* * *

**So I just found this one today and I thought I'd share it. There were notes that went with it, too, which is always fun to read lol. Apparently this was to be the prologue, and then the next 2-3 chapters would start out with clips of the two in their assignment with their assumed names and the second half of the chapters would be with the team. Then the main part of the story would be focused on what happens when the two return. Sound interesting? I kind of thought so. I may have to revive this thing lol. But it doesn't say in the notes if it was going to be slash or just gen. Hmmm. Interesting, not too sure what to do with that one. Of course, if I do revive this, I think I may remake this scene a little. I just posted this as is and I'm not sure how well it's done. Let me know what you all think!**


	20. Don't Make Him Angry

**Someone asked me to write an 'angry Reid' for them and this is what little drabble thing I came up with. Entertaining, I think. Made me giggle**

* * *

"Spencer! Spencer!"

The sound of Spencer's name being shouted stopped the group of agents as they made their way out of the diner to head back to the Bureau. Each one carried bags of food for the team to have a quick lunch while working their case. Thank God for local cases at least allowing them to be at home. Morgan, Emily and Spencer had jumped on the opportunity to get the food, needing a break to stretch their legs out and relax their minds. It had done the trick, too. They were smiling when they stepped back outside with all their orders. That smile wiped off Spencer's face at the sound of his name, though.

A brown haired man was rushing toward them, calling Spencer's name once more. Neither Morgan nor Emily recognized him. It was obvious Spencer did. Without warning the young genius shoved his bags at his friends, saying a quick "Hold this, please." Then he completely surprised his friends. With a move that had Morgan feeling just a tiny bit proud, as he'd been the one to teach it to the kid, Spencer planted his feet and twisted right as the man got close, delivering a solid right hook that sent the guy flying.

Spencer didn't hesitate to march forward, ignoring the pain in his hand, and reach down to grab the guy off the ground and lift him up to push him against the wall. "You tell me one good reason I shouldn't shoot you right now, Alexander James. _One good reason_. Because I tell you it's awfully tempting right now."

The man, AJ, didn't even resist. He just stood there and let the blood trail from his mouth. He didn't even try to pull out of Spencer's hold. "I'm an idiot and an ass and every fucked up thing you could think of or say, Spen. But I can explain where I've been."

"A _month_, Alex! You've been gone a _month_!"

Passersby were giving the two strange looks that both of them ignored. Behind Spencer, both Morgan and Emily watched and waited, unsure what was going on but not sure if they should step in and try to help. AJ and Spencer just ignored them. AJ's expression went slightly pained. "I know. I, I was getting help. I needed help, Spen."

Spencer's mouth curled up in a sneer. "I know exactly where you were, you imbecile. I had Garcia find you for me when Brian showed up on my doorstep, bawling, with no idea where the hell you were. Do you think that just makes it all okay? Because you were getting help, it makes it okay to vanish on the person that's stood by your side through all of this? Do you realize what that did to him?" Disgusted, Spencer let go of AJ and stepped away, drawing a deep breath to try and calm his raging temper. He spun back around, leveling a glare at him. "Bad enough that you got high enough that you didn't even recognize him. Bad enough that you _hit him_. Then you up and vanish without so much as a note."

"I didn't mean to." AJ whispered in agony. "I, I didn't know it was him I was hitting. I thought…"

Once more Spencer proved how punishing his right hook could be. This time AJ flew into the wall instead of hitting the ground. Morgan moved to grab his friend, to restrain him or do something, but Spencer stepped back and lifted his hands in peace and AJ called out "It's fine." He put a hand to his mouth as he straightened up. "Trust me, I deserved it. And more, even." He told Morgan. Then he turned his eyes back to Spencer. "I'm not saying what I did was okay. It was far from okay. Why do you think I left, Spen? I knew I needed help and I didn't trust myself around him anymore. I couldn't stand the thought of hurting him anymore. Maybe it was stupid, and I know it hurt him, but I had to go. Now please, tell me where he is. Please."

"If it were up to me, I'd make you suffer." Spencer told him flatly. "I'd make you wait _days_. Make you wonder where he was and if he was okay just like you did to him. I'd make sure you paid for every tear he's cried this past month. But it's not up to me. For some reason, he still wants to talk to you." With his left hand, he reached into his pocket and grabbed a single key on a key ring. He threw it to AJ, who caught it instinctively. "He's at my apartment. This is your one shot, Alexander. You mess this up, you hurt him again, and I swear to you I'll do more than bloody your face next time."

"I know." AJ said simply. Still bleeding, he flashed Spencer a quick smile. "Thanks, Spen." He brought his hand up to wipe away some of the blood and gave a wry sort of chuckle. "Tell whoever taught you to punch like that thanks. At least I won't worry about you in the field so much."

Spencer snorted and moved to take his bags back from Morgan. "Thank him yourself. Alex, this is Morgan, the guy who teaches me self-defense, and this is Emily, a good friend of mine. Guys, this is Alex." He didn't even give them time to say high. Bags in hand, he looked back at AJ and told him "I'll be home late. You're the imbecile; you get to make the store run. We're out of almost everything." And without another word, Spencer took off back toward the Bureau.

They were inside before the other two caught up enough to actually talk to him. "So, uh, a friend of yours, I take it?" Emily teased him as they stepped into the elevator.

Sighing, Spencer watched the doors as they shut. He had to give them some explanation. "Yes. His boyfriend, another very good friend of mine, showed up a month ago at my apartment crying because AJ had gotten high, thought he was someone else, hit him still thinking he was someone else, an then the next morning vanished. Brian waited for a few days but AJ never came home and no one could find him, so he came here. I had Garcia run a search and she found him in a rehab facility, getting clean. Apparently now he's clean and ready to make up." The doors opened at the end of his speech and Spencer added "I hope Brian kicks him in the balls" as he walked out the doors.

"Hold up a second there, pretty boy." Morgan called to him. As they walked into the bullpen, Morgan flagged down both JJ and Dave, who were standing by Morgan's desk looking at some papers. "Would you guys mind taking these for us? We'll be right back." Morgan told them as he passed off first his and then Spencer's bags of food. "I've got to take macho guy here to get his hand looked at."

While the two were still looking on with surprise, Morgan tugged on Spencer's arm, bringing his hand up to see as they started to walk away. "Damn, kid, I think you might've broken something."

Spencer tried to flex his fingers and winced. The adrenaline had worn off and the pain was starting to be able to be felt. "I think you're right."

"You really put your weight into those hits." Just as they stepped out of the bullpen, before the doors could close behind them, the others heard Morgan add on "Good job, Reid."

Dave turned to Emily and raised an eyebrow. "Now, what was _that_ about?"

"You are not going to believe this…" she began.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed it lol. And to those that haven't seen, I have my poll up for next story. I'm almost done with my other stories, so I'll be checking results soon! I'm thinking maybe I should put up a separate poll for which drabble to be finished first lol**


	21. Family

Spencer Reid let out a purely internal sigh as he made his way up the ramp and toward the conference room. They'd just gotten home yesterday from a week spent in Tallahassee, Florida, chasing a serial killer that raped and killed nine women before they were brought in and killed another three before they finally managed to catch him. It had been a hard case for them all and one that they were glad to be done with. Spencer knew he wasn't the only one this time that was looking forward to a few days of paperwork to break up the tension from this last case. But now they were all being called into the conference room once more.

It was surprising to see that JJ was seated with Garcia at her side, already waiting, while Aaron was the one standing. On the round table stood a box that was already opened. Spencer eyed it curiously as he took a chair, Morgan moving to take one beside him. Emily came in next, with Dave on her tail. "Another case already?" Emily asked the room. "Don't they think we deserve a little breathing space after this one?"

"This one is slightly different." Aaron's voice brought silence to the room. The minute everyone was seated, he looked from one to the other and then gestured to the box on the table. "A package was just brought to me a bit ago. On the outside of the box there was a label addressed to 'Dr. Reid and the BAU'."

Wait, what? Spencer's eyes shot to the box and he couldn't stop himself from tilting his head slightly to look at the label. There, in computer printed black and white, it was just as Aaron said. Dr. Reid and the BAU. What was going on here? What could have possibly been addressed to him? He got that answer as he looked back up at Aaron.

"There was a DVD inside. I viewed it alone in my office first, to see what we're dealing with. The video itself is short, just thirty seconds, and there's only a single message on it. I'd like to see what you guys think of it. Maybe you can shed some light on this." Though he said 'you guys', his eyes moved to Spencer, clearly wondering the same thing that everyone else was. Somehow this was obviously connected to Spencer in one way or another; that was why it was addressed to him specifically before being addressed to the team. So whatever this message was, it was most likely for him. Something in Spencer's stomach twisted a little. This couldn't be good.

He had no idea how bad it was going to be.

Aaron pressed a button on his remote and a moment later, an image appeared on the screen. It was a black screen first. Then, like some kind of PowerPoint presentation, letters appeared one by one until they spelled the words "One by One, I Will Take Them From You. He is the First." The next second, the words vanished and what came onto the screen had the blood freezing in Spencer's veins.

A man was against a wall, his feet shackled at the bottom, his hands shackled above his head, holding his body like an X. He was dressed only in a pair of green pants, part of a pair of hospital scrubs, and black tennis shoes. Blood ran down the right side of the man's face from an obvious wound on the side of his head, easily visible through the high and tight haircut the man sported. His head was hanging almost as if he were unconscious, partially blocking his face. It didn't matter. Spencer recognized him instantly. Even without his face, he knew the man. He instantly recognized him but still, he sought confirmation, his eyes travelling to the man's left side where he saw the confirmation in the form of a small network of scars. Scars that had come from falling onto a barbed wire fence when he was thirteen. The image cut away and new text popped up, saying "I will contact you in 24 hours."

Even when the video turned off, Spencer stared at the screen. No. No, this wasn't true. There was no way in hell this was true. This had to be some kind of sick trick, right? Some sick, disgusting trick.

A small hand touched his arm. "Spence?"

That touch returned life to Spencer's body. His eyes shot over to who had touched him, taking in JJ's concerned expression, and then he was moving without even thinking. Pushing back from the table, he rose even as he dug in his bag for his cell phone. With shaking hands, he managed to get his phone out and start dialing a number. Someone started to say his name and was hushed by someone else. Spencer didn't care. He put his phone to his ear and listened as it rang, and rang, and rang, and then the answering machine picked up. "This is Micah. You know what do." _Beep_.

"Micah, it's me. If you're there, pick up the phone. Now is not the time to be ignoring my call, do you hear me? Pick up the phone." Spencer paused, fighting the nausea that grew with each passing second. "Call me when you get this. It's important."

As soon as he ended the call, he was dialing another number, fingers shaking so badly this time he almost couldn't get it dialed. His feet had carried him toward the windows, away from the team though he knew they were watching him. Who cared? Let them watch. He felt like he was going to be sick. This time when he put the phone to his ear, it only took two rings before someone answered. "Hey there. I was just about to call you, honey." Said a slightly tense voice.

"Have you seen Micah?" Spencer didn't waste time before asking the most important question. Nothing else mattered right now. Nothing.

He swore he could almost hear the man on the other end freeze. "Why are you asking me?"

The way he asked that was enough to have Spencer's eyes closing the nausea in his stomach clawing harder and harder. "It's true." Spencer whispered past lips that felt numb. "He…he's gone, isn't it? He's gone."

"What do you know?" The man demanded. "What is going on, Spencer?"

Still in a soft voice, Spencer asked "Why didn't you call me? Why didn't you tell me something had happened?"

There was a pause before he got an answer. "Because I just found out two hours ago when I got to his apartment for breakfast and the door was broken open. Now, Spencer, tell me what the hell is going on."

It wasn't a joke. It was true. It was really true. The low sound he made was aching and full of an inner pain that surprised those around him. Never, _never_, had they seen Spencer so close to breaking in front of people. This was the type of thing the kid always took private. If he started to get emotional about something, he would either lock it down for later or find some way to excuse himself until he was under control. But now, he looked like he was breaking a little in front of them. "You…you need to get here." He found himself saying. It was the only thing he could think to do. "Gather all your evidence, everything, and get out here. Whoever took him, they, they sent a video of him and they said they'd contact us in twenty four hours."

"I'll be there before then. Hang tight, honey. We're gonna figure this out."

"Hurry." Was all Spencer could say before they hung up.

When he turned back around, everyone's eyes were locked on him. Spencer couldn't help the defensive posture he took or the way his hands seemed to quiver, but a few deep breaths had him grabbing onto the control he'd learned a long, long time ago, locking down all the fear and pain underneath a hard exterior, the only thing that could keep him going right now without screaming. Licking his lips, he looked at his friends and knew he'd have to explain. He just hoped they weren't too upset with him when all was said and done. "I, I know the man in the video." He stammered out nervously. "His name is Micah. Micah John Edwards and he's a physician at the Kaiser hospital in Pasadena, California. The man I just called is his older brother, Scott."

"How do you know them, Reid?"

It wasn't surprising that it was Aaron to ask that question. Once more Spencer looked around him, taking in all their expressions, these faces of people that mattered so much to him, and again he couldn't help but wonder what this news was going to do. There was no going back, though. Not now. Not with this. He took a step back without realizing it, distancing himself from them just the slightest bit in preparation. Then he said the very last thing they'd ever expected to hear. "Micah and Scott are my brothers. Well, half-brothers. Their Dad well, he and Mom, yeah."

Stunned silence filled the room.

* * *

**Wow, so I know this is just a little bit different, but this has been percolating in my head a while, ever since I helped a friend of mine write their one shot called Meet The Team (they needed help writing Spencer, but their story is a XMen/CM xover lol) and I wanted to do something ever since then with him having brothers, and this little drabble was born from that. This is one I can definitely say I'd like to continue one day and I hope you guys like it.**

**Okay, I've got my poll winner now (but I'm going to surprise you with it lol) And now I'm sticking up a new poll to pick which drabble you want to see next, because well, I can never have one story at a time going LOL. And now, I'm off to go shopping with my Dad. The man's taking me out for the day :) Which is, btw, awesome. Gotta love Daddy ;) I'll hopefully get the first chapter of the poll winner up within 1-2 days folks, so keep an eye out for it!**


	22. Time 2 clip

**Hey everyone, this isn't cr8zymomy, this is her good friend, SpencerRemyLvr. I was visiting with cr8zymommy today and she asked me to go to her computer and post a little drabble for her and let you guys know that she's so sorry she's been out and she's going to try to be back soon. Right now she's in the hospital again - but she is doing okay! It's just another round of treatment for her and she can't have her laptop there, so she doesn't get the chance to write. She's writing on paper, but the medicine tires her easily, so it's slow going. But, she told me she had this clip, which is wonderful! (Yes, I'm biased) and it's a clip from what's eventually going to be Time Part 2, sometime in that story. I like it, personally. But she asked me to post this, so here it is! Hope you guys like it and she says she'll be back as soon as she can. If this all goes well, she should be home in the next two weeks, ready and raring to go!**

* * *

When the door opened, Greg found himself face to face with Spencer Reid, who happened to be dressed in only a towel. "Oh, hey, Greg." Spencer said carefully. His words were always careful when he spoke to people that weren't his usual teammates. _Trying hard to keep that stutter out of his words_ Greg had realized. "Come on in."

The young agent stepped into the room, leaving Greg to either come in or go away. He walked into the room and shut the door behind him. Turning, he looked at Spencer's retreating form. Words dried up in his throat when he saw all of Spencer's exposed skin. _Jesus. Jesus Christ_. It was all he could think for a minute. In stark relief stood so many different scars. Tons of them. His back looked to have the worst of it—how could someone survive getting so many scars?—but when Spencer turned around, there were plenty on his stomach and chest as well. The stories he'd heard about Spencer's kidnapping and torture had never really seemed this real before. "What can I d-do for you, Greg?" Spencer asked politely.

"Oh, um…" He had to take a moment to clear his throat and gather his composure. "Hotch wanted me to come let you guys know that we're all gathering downstairs in ten minutes to go out and grab some breakfast before we head to the station. He thought it might do us good to relax and brainstorm outside of the work environment."

Spencer nodded and moved toward the bathroom door. He knocked his hand against it and called out "Derek, Greg's here! Breakfast downstairs in t-ten minutes, so quit g-grooming and let's g-go!" Turning, he grinned at Greg. "S-Sometimes you have to prod Derek along if you w-want to arrive anywhere at a reasonable t-time."

That said, Spencer moved toward the open go-bag on his bed and rifled through for clothes. Without giving Greg a chance to even realize what was going on, the young genius pulled his towel off and set it on the bedpost before reaching for a pair of boxers. His lack of modesty left Greg both stunned and embarrassed. He couldn't stop himself from turning slightly to face the other direction. Still, in that one instant, he'd seen the marks that had been hidden under the towel. Was there a spot on this kid that wasn't scarred?

The bathroom door opened and Morgan walked out. A second later he was chuckling wryly. "Pretty boy, what have I told you about being naked in front of random people?" He said teasingly. There was another sound that Greg didn't recognize, then the obvious sound of a kiss followed by Morgan saying "Go finish dressing in the bathroom and get your teeth brushed, you goofball. We'll wait for you in the hall."

"I am not a goofball, Derek." But Spencer was moving, his footsteps echoing across the room. A moment later Morgan was touching Greg's arm to get his attention. "Come on, let's wait for him out here." Morgan's voice was more kind than it had ever been when addressing Greg.

The two men moved out of the hotel room and into the hallway. When the door was shut, Morgan turned and gave Greg a look that was half sympathetic and half apologetic. "I'm sorry that he embarrassed you, Greg. I promise, he didn't mean to."

Greg stared at the hotel door, his brain replaying what he'd seen. The scars. "He, ah…it's ok. I just, I didn't expect it. I expected more, um, shyness, I guess." That was true. After hearing everything the kid had been through, it amazed him that Spencer had so easily stripped in front of him. That he'd answered the door in a towel!

When he looked at Morgan he saw the dark-skinned profiler nodding at him. "Typically, people who've lived through what he has do become shyer. We all know the reasoning behind that. Spencer, he's a little different. He kind of went the other way. Instead of being shy about his body, he just…he doesn't care. No matter what his therapist does, she's never been able to break him of that. She says he'll probably always maintain the mentality he has. To him, he doesn't see the point in covering up anymore or in being shy or modest. The bastard took that from him. Spencer's theory is basically that, if someone wants him naked, they'll just strip him. Instead of seeing his body as a part of him, he sees it as an object, one that he doesn't really care about."


	23. Surprising Secrets

"We're almost there, baby. Just a little further." Spencer murmured hoarsely. Pain radiated up his leg and he almost stumbled before he managed to catch himself. Just barely he managed to keep his feet under him. Everything on his body hurt. Everything. But he kept walking. Kept moving. There was no time to stop. It wasn't safe. Not just for himself, but for the little body sheltered in his arms. Tiny legs were wrapped around his waist, clutching tightly to him, making his stomach ache even more. He didn't move them. Arms were wrapped around his neck just as tightly. It made it a little harder to breathe but, again, he didn't move them.

The little figure holding him gave another whimper when a car horn sounded nearby. Spencer rubbed one hand over her back and tried to murmur soothingly as he pulled the blanket tighter around them. His head kept trying to spin but he fought back as best he could. In the distance he could see the Bureau. The one place he knew he could go that would be safe. Briefly he'd thought of going to the home of one of his friends, his team, but he couldn't. He couldn't lead Terri to them. Couldn't let them be hurt. She wouldn't hesitate to come after him just because he was at one of their homes.

His left arm gave a particularly nasty throb when the little girl shifted in his arms. Sheer will forced the scream back. There was a gash on his left arm, he knew. It had stopped bleeding but he thought he might have torn it back open. He wasn't sure.

When he walked in the front doors of the Bureau, he almost collapsed with joy. He was safe. He was here and he was safe. They'd made it.

Someone in the lobby saw him and rushed over. Spencer realized it was one of the security guards. "Dr. Reid!" The man exclaimed. "Jesus, what happened? Are you ok?" The man was one that Spencer knew. His name was Jim and he was one of the typical evening security guards.

"Jim. Is my team still upstairs?" Spencer croaked out. He tightened his arms when he felt the little girl quiver a little. Again he made soothing sounds, rocking her slightly, ignoring the pain it caused him.

Mouth gaping slightly, Jim took a second to recover enough to answer. "Uh, none of them have come past me yet. Are you…are you ok, Dr. Reid? You want me to call them down here for you?"

Spencer shook his head, almost instantly regretting the movement. It made the world spin slightly. "Uh, no. I'll go on up."

Somehow Jim got him through the typical security procedures before walking Spencer to the elevator. The young doctor thanked him and then pressed the button for his floor. "We're almost there, baby. It's going to be ok. Everything's ok now. We're safe. I've got you and we're safe, ok? Shh, shh." _Please, let me be telling her the truth. Let me be right. Let us be safe now._ Unwillingly his mind tried to flash back to his apartment but he ruthlessly pulled back from that. No, he couldn't think about that yet. Not now. First, they had to get to safety. They had to get to his team.

When the doors opened, Spencer stepped out, still whispering soothing sounds to his young charge. His legs were starting to tremble as he made his way to the glass doors. It was almost too much effort for him to move one arm off the little girl and grasp the door to open it. Pain roared to life with the move. Somehow, he managed to do it. He got it open enough that he could step in. The blanket slipped from numb fingers and he didn't bother to catch it. The movement would have taken too much.

He was only three steps in the room when someone first noticed him. There was a loud gasp and the sound of something crashing to the ground. It was his first clue as to how bad he must look. Spencer hadn't bothered to take time to look himself over beyond assessing where blood had been coming from. He had no idea that parts of his clothes were burnt or that he was covered in soot and dirt and blood.

"Reid!"

The loud shout echoed through the bullpen. He'd been shuffling toward his desk, toward his friends, when Morgan suddenly looked up. One look at his friend and he'd launched up from his desk. His shout brought the rest of the team. It seemed as if all of them materialized from nowhere. Spencer found himself surrounded by his teammates. By his family.

"Oh my God!"

"Reid, what happened?"

"Are you ok?"

"Who…who's the little girl?"

All the questions and words flew around him so quickly that he couldn't focus on just one of them. Everything was trying to swim in and out of focus. One voice came above all the rest, breaking into the chaos and bringing Spencer a solid presence to mentally latch onto. "Quiet!" Aaron Hotchner ordered the group. "This is not the place for this. Prentiss, get us some medics in here, now. You over there, Mitchell. Find me some blankets and bottled water and bring them to the conference room, now! Everyone else, back off. BAU team, with me." Then Aaron's voice was closer and Spencer looked over, realizing Aaron had moved to one side of him after giving orders. "Reid, come on. Let's get you up there and sat down so we can look at you two. Let's go."

Spencer found himself moving again. Aaron's hand was on his one elbow, bracing him, and Morgan was on the other side, bracing that arm. Neither of them said anything. Their nearness had the little girl quivering and Spencer turned his head enough to whisper reassurances into her curls.

He found himself taken into the conference room and sat down on the couch. Being here, knowing he was safe, took some of the adrenaline that had carried Spencer all the way here. His eyes closed without him realizing it. Just barely he managed to make his arms move so he could shift the child in his arms so that she was curled in his lap instead of wrapped around him now. She tucked under one arm, burying her face against his chest. A blanket was draped over them.

"Reid?" Aaron spoke gently, drawing Spencer back to the present moment. He opened his eyes to look wearily at his boss. Behind him, he could see three paramedics. "Reid, the medics are here. Can you let them take a look at you?"

It took a minute before he remembered how to make his mouth work. "Uh. Yeah, yeah."

Aaron straightened and waved them forward. One went right to Spencer, sitting on the couch beside him and raising gloved hands to his head. Another set their bag down and started sifting inside. But the last one moved to Spencer's other side and started to reach for the little girl. "Hey there, honey. Why don't you come with me and we'll get you looked at and make sure you're ok?" the paramedic said to her. The child whimpered and cried and clutched tighter to Spencer. That woke Spencer's brain up. He tightened his grip on her and pulled her closer to him. "You're not taking her from me." He snarled at the medic.

The medic looked up at Aaron before looking back at the suddenly awake and angry Spencer. "Sir, I need to look at her and make sure she's uninjured."

"You can do that right here. She's not going anywhere."

"Sir…"

"No!" Spencer snapped. He brought his free hand over to stroke the curls that were hiding the child's face. She was clinging even tighter to him and was crying now. "You aren't taking her out of my sight. You will _not_!"

This time it was Morgan who stepped up to try and diffuse the situation. He stepped past the paramedic and took the empty spot on Spencer's free side. "Hey, kid, breathe. No one's going to take her from you. But we need to look at her and we need you looked at. We can't do that if you two are glued to one another."

The words made sense, but they put a slick layer of panic through Spencer. He couldn't let her away from him. Didn't they understand? "She has to stay with me, Morgan." He pleaded. There was no shame right now. He sacrificed his pride when he looked to his friend. "Please. I've got to keep her safe."

Morgan didn't miss a beat. "How about she sits on my lap for a few minutes while they look at her? We'll be right here next to you and you two can both get checked out and cleared. We'll stay right here with her. You know I won't let anything happen, pretty boy. I'll keep her safe."

For a second Spencer debated it. Then he nodded. He trusted Morgan. Morgan wouldn't let anything happen to her. Morgan would keep them safe. He wouldn't take her away. Bending his head, Spencer kissed the crown of curls. "Go sit with Morgan, baby. Go on, it's ok. I'll be right here and you can see me. But I need you to sit with Morgan for a minute, ok?"

The little girl made the transfer from one lap to the other, but her hand sought out Spencer's and gripped it tightly. Once they were settled, the medics went back to work. The one squatted in front of Morgan's legs, looking at the little girl. "Hello there, honey. My name is Robert and I'm just going to take a look at you, ok? I just want to make sure you don't have any owies. Can you tell me your name?"

She gave a little squeak and turned her head to bury it against Morgan's chest. Protectively he put his arm around her.

The medic looked over at Spencer. "Do you know her name, Sir?"

Wearily Spencer laid his head back against the couch. He was so _tired_. "Cordelia." He answered in a dull voice. "Cordelia Lynn Reid."

With his eyes closed, he didn't see the way his team startled at that. Didn't notice how their wide eyes went from him to her and back again. "Cordelia Reid?" Dave said in surprise. "Is she…."

Spencer didn't even open his eyes. With a soft sigh, he spoke before he'd even thought. "She's my daughter."

* * *

**SpencerRemyLvr back again! I went and saw cr8zymommy and I printed off your reviews and PM's and such and took them to her to make her smile. She was touched by everyone's well wishes and wanted me to say thanks! She also gave me permission to hunt her computer for scraps to put up for you guys lol so that means that I get to pick what goes up :D So, this is the first of a few I'm going to post for her. And, she's almost got a chapter finished in her notebook for one of her stories, just because it seems to be a great way to distract her while she can't sleep. She writes some and I transcribe some for her and when it's done, I'll bring it and type it up for her and post it. It's a great distraction and she needs those. So, anyways, enough babbling, sugar bees. Let's get this started! Here's the first of, well, aint quite sure how many I'm gonna find but I sure hope you enjoy them all. I know I do. **


	24. Ghost Whisperer

**She was nervous about posting this one becuase it goes into the 'supernatural' area. It's a "Spencer sees ghosts" kind of story clip. But ****I**** enjoy it, so I'm posting it for her. Ha!**

* * *

The fact that he walked into crime scenes with his mental shields as strong as possible was the only thing that saved Spencer that day. Usually, just to be safe, Spencer was always paired with Morgan or Emily at crime scenes, or very rarely Aaron, but never with Dave. While they would openly tell him he was being stupid about not telling Dave, they also respected that decision. But today, while he'd been paired with Aaron for once, someone had called to the Unit Chief once they were inside. At the look he got, Spencer smiled slightly, lowering his voice to murmur "Go ahead, Hotch. I won't go far and I seem to be doing okay."

The man watched him for a second before nodding. "I'll send Morgan over." He said. It wasn't an idle statement or a request. The young genius just nodded as he went back to inspecting the house. They needed something, some kind of clue, to lead them to where this man had done what he'd done. Anything at all that might help them. Later, he would admit that it was his total focus on this, as well as the surprise that came to him, that caused his shielding to go down. He'd wandered into the bedroom where Dave and two local officers were, lost in thought as he tried to profile the house around him at the same time as running down what he knew of their Unsub. Because of that, he never saw the officer he almost ran into and when the man tried to steady him, his hand on Spencer's arm startled him out of his thoughts, scaring him just enough that his shields wavered. That was all it took.

To describe what it felt like was so difficult for Spencer. There were so many analogies to describe the various sensations and all of them paled in comparison to the actual feeing. Sometimes it was almost like a fist to the gut. Others, it was like being shoved underwater. Some were warm and soothing while others were sharp and bright. And others still, especially in the cases like this, were hard and painful and oh so violent. All it took was one ghost, one vision, one memory left imprinted on this room, and it was enough to push past his shields and allow others in. Maybe he'd have been able to control it if there had only been a few. But there was one after the other, ghost after ghost, memory after memory, all of them clamoring at him, demanding to be heard, screaming their story to the sky, shoving their memories at him so that he was almost drowning underneath them.

He never noticed his body start to drop. Never felt the hard floor impact with his knees. A small part of him retained a link to himself, to his body and to the world around him, but the rest was drowning underneath the images and sensations and, oh God, it _hurt_. So much blood, so much death and violence, tearing him apart and ripping into him. From somewhere off to the side he heard a voice—Dave, David Rossi—calling his name and asking him what was wrong. Spencer fought hard to retain that link to himself, to control himself enough to say what needed to be said. "Morgan." He forced the words out on a pained groan. "Get Morgan." Morgan would help. He would anchor him.

There was movement, but the hand on his back stayed there. Spencer tried to focus on that above anything else. Right this instant he couldn't focus on what they were showing him, screaming at him, memories and words as sharp as knives.

More voices came in, mixing with the rest, but these he knew who they were. Those belonged to his team. Morgan, cursing low and harsh. Aaron, ordering "Clear the room, please. He just needs space. Clear the room. Prentiss, the door." And then Morgan again, right beside him, saying "Here, Rossi. I've got him." And then familiar hands were on Spencer, wrapping around him, banding across his chest so that he was firmly held in that familiar, tight grip. "I got you, Spencer. I got you." Morgan said in his ear.

Spencer was trying to pull his mental shields up just enough to be able to breathe again, but a few insistent ghosts were battering at him, demanding to be heard, demanding justice. Screwing his eyes shut, Spencer gripped at Morgan's arms, grounding himself as best as he could. "Back off." He said through gritted teeth. "Back off some or so help me, I will leave right now and I won't come back."

_"NO!"_ The shriek ripped his ears and had him wincing. There was another voice, close, snarling at him _"We won't let you walk out of here. You will hear us!"_

"Not if you don't _back off_. I'll have him carry me out if I have to. I will shut my eyes and plug my ears and have him carry me right out of this house if you don't stop. I can't do anything with you doing this." To put action to words, he closed his eyes, keeping them screwed tightly shut. He felt them rage for a moment before slowly, slowly, pulling back. It gave him enough space to bring up a light shielding, protecting him for now from some of the emotion. Not taking it away, but acting as a nice buffer so that he could actually find himself once more.

He must've been able to feel the tension drain from Spencer, because Morgan's grip relaxed a little. "Ready to try standing?"

"Please."

Behind him, Spencer heard Dave starting to say something, only to be hushed by Aaron. That was all the attention the young genius paid them. He let Morgan help him to his feet and, once he was steady and still braced in Morgan's arms, he opened his eyes once more. As much as could be he was prepared for what he saw. The force of this had warned him how bad it was going to be. The sheer number around him was astounding, however. It was rare for so many spirits to choose to stay behind in one specific place. There were so many—a quick scan told him fifteen. Fifteen women. Five of them he recognized from the photos they'd viewed down on their evidence board. One he recognized from her picture; Victoria Ulnar. She looked calmer than the others. More saddened than angry.

She saw him looking at her and offered him a gentle smile. _"We deserve justice."_ She told him._ "Can you help us find it?"_

"I can try." He would never promise something he wasn't sure he could keep. Still holding on to Morgan, he took a step forward, focusing only on Victoria. "Can you tell me anything about where you were?"

_"It was cold and dark."_ Pain flickered over her face and one of her hands raised, pressing against her stomach. _"We were in little rooms, like cells, with wooden doors that had bars for a window on the top and a flap on the bottom for food. I only saw the main area once but…I don't really remember my surroundings."_

Agreement came from the others. They remembered what had happened to them at that time, not what they had seen. Apparently, being taken to the main room was what started the end for them. It was where they died. Spencer took a deep breath and made himself relax as best as he could. There was one way he could do this. One way to maybe find out something. "Will you show me?" He asked Victoria quietly. Beside him, he heard Morgan make some sound, but the man didn't leave him and he didn't say anything else, he simply held on. Spencer drew strength from that. "Will you share that with me?"

_"It is not pretty. He was violent at the end."_

"I understand."

Victoria looked to him for a long moment before nodding. Then she stepped forward, the other women parting to allow her through, and she came straight to him. She lifted her hands, putting them on either side of his face. _"See, then, magician. See my death."_ And with a breath, that was what he did. The memory took him, took him deep, so that he saw the darkness around him, felt the hand in his hair as he was yanked across the floor.

"No, please, please!" But there was no stopping it. Further and further s/he was dragged, down a long hallway with multiple doors, across a floor that was hard and cold like cement. Then into the main circle, the main part of the room, where s/he was thrown to the floor. "Please, don't do this!"

The Unsub, the monster, grinned down at her/him. "I love it when they beg. Beg, little girl. It won't do you any good, but I promise, I'll enjoy it." And then he was on her/him and there was pain, pain, oh God the pain, make it stop. But it didn't stop. It went on and on in a cycle that had become terrifyingly familiar. With fists s/he was beaten as the rest of her/him was assaulted as well. That painful thrusting, ripping her/him apart, and then hands around her/his neck, and his face looming, laughing, enjoying it as s/he struggled to breathe. It hurt, it hurt, and the edges of her/his vision were darkening, black seeping in, until it all faded away and there was nothing. Just, nothing.

Spencer pulled himself back with a skill born of long practice. He looked to Victoria once more and felt the wetness on his cheeks that signaled the tears he hadn't realized he'd been crying. "I am so sorry."

_"Did it help? Did you see what you need, magician?"_

Licking his lips, he forced his mind to work, forcing it to look over the memory that was now his as well, drawing back just a little from it to examine the details. Realization hit him as he did and he knew, he _knew_. His eyes flung open once more. "I know where to go." Slightly shaky, he turned enough to look at Morgan. "I know where to go."

This seemed to finally be enough for Dave. He strode forward, a firm look on his face. "Is someone going to tell me what is going on here? What is this?" he demanded. "What happened to you and who on earth are you talking to and why does everyone in here seem to think this is perfectly normal?"

Still raw from what he'd seen, what he'd felt, Spencer just didn't have the capability to put on a face for Dave right now. His voice was tired and it trembled slightly as he sighed and said "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, Rossi. I'll explain it later. Right now, Morgan, prop me against the wall and go over to the armoire. If you move it, there should be a trapdoor going down. I'd thought this room's structure was off and what I saw suggests that this could be an entrance."


	25. Companion

**Another one that's got the 'ghost' aspect to it. Again, I enjoy it, so I'm posting it for her :D**

* * *

Spencer felt it almost the same time that Wynn did. That undeniable _presence_, right on the edge of his thoughts, nagging at him. It was the internal alarm that he could explain to no one. On a good day, he amused himself by calling it his body's version 'spider sense'. Unfortunately, as it had proven time and time again, it didn't work on all danger. No, it only alerted him to certain things. One, spirits nearby. Two, auras left by spirits. And then there was the third, the only kind that triggered this sense so strongly—Hunters.

Lifting his hand, Spencer touched the Bluetooth in his ear, his head tipping down so his hair blocked his face and he could use that as a screen through which he could search the coffee shop. Pretending to be speaking into his Bluetooth, he told Wynn, "You know, I better get moving if I want to get to the bus stop on time. The last thing I need it to be late for work."

As he rose from his chair, holding his to-go cup in one hand, Wynn moved alongside him. _"I see him. Blond, ponytail, opposite side of the room. You're clear to move, it looks. Get us out of here, Spencer."_

"What do you think I'm doing?" Spencer tried hard to keep his body language relaxed and his tone even. He didn't want to tip off the man he was now watching out of the corner of his eye. _Make it seem like it's all a phone call. You've had practice at this, you know how it works._ He made his way easily through the shop, slipping past people as he always did, smiling shyly at anyone he came too close to. "It's been a long time. I wonder why he wants to meet today." Spencer asked casually.

Wynn slipped outside with him, casting worried glances around. _"I don't know what's going on. Your shielding is strong enough – they shouldn't be able to sense you!"_

"I know. Maybe we're just looking at it from the wrong angle. This could just be a case of overreaction."

_"Maybe, but it doesn't feel like it."_

"No, no it doesn't." And that was what worried him. But nothing happened as he made his way to the bus stop. It was empty as usual and he took his typical seat on the bench, trying to tell himself to relax. Maybe he had overreacted. Just because a Hunter was there didn't mean they were after him. He was well shielded, like Wynn said! There was no way they'd know it was him. Then that feeling came back once more and Spencer knew that no, he wasn't going to get that lucky. Spencer's panicked brain could only think of one thing to do. Pressing the button on his Bluetooth, he said "Call Morgan." At the same time, he scanned around him discreetly, trying to figure out where the Hunter was. There was no telling _who_ it was out here. It could be any one of the people milling past.

"Hey, kid, what's up?" Morgan's amused voice came through the earpiece and almost startled him.

Spencer fought to keep himself as controlled as possible. He didn't want to scare Morgan. "Not much. I'm at the bus stop by the coffee shop. Um, is there any chance you might, you know, swing by on your way past and pick me up? That is, if you're not already at work. I'd understand completely and…"

"Woah there kid, slow it down." Morgan cut in. The amusement in his voice was replaced with a little bit of worry. "It's not a problem. I'm actually about five, maybe ten minutes away right now. Is everything okay? Are _you_ okay?"

Okay? No, no, right now he was not okay. Right now he was _far_ from okay. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just…" Trailing off, Spencer saw as someone was moving his way. Someone moving with purpose. That sense in his head grew just a little bit stronger and a little stronger the closer the man got. _Oh, shit_. "You said five to ten minutes, right?" There was a slight squeak to his voice that he couldn't quite prevent.

There was definite worry in Morgan's words now. "Five, tops. I'll be there quickly, Reid. Just hang in there."

Even though he knew, he could tell, there was no getting away, Spencer still rose, hoping for the best. "I told you I'm fine, Morgan. I'll be waiting right near the stop." _Please let the man hear that and decide not to do this. God, please, don't let him do this._

_"He's not stopping, Spencer."_ Wynn said in his ear. He sounded worried too. _"Hold tight to your shields."_

Right then, someone else stepped in front of Spencer at the same time that a few more came up behind him and the man closed the distance off to the side. They had him hemmed in and they knew it. He wouldn't risk anything with so many civilians around, for multiple different reasons. In his ear, Spencer heard Morgan's voice demanding "What the hell is going on, Reid? You're not fine. I can hear it in your voice. What is it, kid?"

One of the guys reached up, grinning at Spencer as he took the Bluetooth off his ear and threw it sideways. "You won't need that." The man assured him.

"Come now, gentleman." The man who had been moving steadily toward him now came up and stopped almost right in front of Spencer, smiling at him. Five guys. Five guys total and somehow he'd managed to let himself get surrounded. _Idiot! You're an idiot! They don't live by the same rules you do and you know that! You shouldn't have counted on the presence of civilians to stop them from trying something. You should have trusted your gut._ He met the man's stare as the Hunter's smile grew to a grin. "This is a conversation I don't think we need to get into in public now, do you?" Though the Hunter spoke to his friends, his words were obviously meant for Spencer.

_"Stall until your friend gets here."_ Wynn advised.

_Yeah, as if I couldn't think of that myself. Real helpful there, buddy._ "I'm not entirely sure as to what you're referring to. I am terribly sorry, but I am running late for work at the moment and my ride should be here shortly. If you'll just excuse me…" He tried to step out, step around the man, when a hand planted in the center of his chest and shoved him against the wall of the bus enclosure. Hard. Spencer resisted wincing. The guy holding him sneered at him, his actions blocked by the others so people couldn't see. "You're not going anywhere but with us, buddy."

"Who are you people?" He made his voice tremble just a little bit. "What do you want with me?"

"I think you know what we want very, very well. _Seer_."

Only one word came to the mind of the ever articulate Spencer Reid. _Shit_. Then, _stall, stall, dammit. Do something. Anything! _"Seer?" He put a load of derision into that single word. "Did you just call me a Seer? As in clairvoyant? I am a man of science, sir. I believe in facts and statistics and logic, not legends and myths and fancies. I think you've got the wrong person." Out of the corner of his eye, Spencer saw Morgan's car racing down the road toward him. Relief filled him. His friend was here. Backup had arrived. Feeling slightly more confident, Spencer raised one eyebrow at the man. "Now, if you don't mind, it looks like my ride has just arrived. And the last thing I think you want is to draw the negative attention of the FBI, am I correct?"


	26. Family - Part 2

**This one here is almost a chapter, though she told me it's still a little 'rough'. It goes with the previous drabble "Family" where Spencer has brothers, Scott and Micah. I know it's more than a drabble, but I thought I'd post it for her anyways**

* * *

It took a few minutes before anyone found their voices. Garcia found her before anyone else. "You have _brothers_?" She exclaimed with obvious shock and just a slight amount of hurt. "And you never told us about them?"

"Half-brothers." He corrected her instinctively. Embarrassment and discomfort had him shrugging a little bit. "And I don't really tell anyone about them. For this Unsub to know about them, he has to have researched me quite a bit or have been watching me. There are no records tying us together." _Please get the hint. Right now I need to work. Right now, finding him is more important than anything else._

Dave at least seemed to understand his hint. He gave the young man a sympathetic look before he helped pull the topic back to business. "He might be someone that knows you from your past that might be connected to you and them. That could explain how he knows you."

"This is personal." Emily added in. "It said 'One by one, I will take them from you. He is the first'. It could be an Unsub or one of their family members that feels like you took their family from them, or their brother."

That was a horrifying thought. Micah being hurt as a way of revenge? The nausea started to come back, rolling through his stomach. "One by one." He repeated hoarsely. "Does that mean he's going to go after Scott too? Or my mom? If he knows about Micah and Scott, he's got to know about all of it. I need to put some protection on Mom and let Dad and the Colonel know about this." The idea of telling the Colonel was enough to make the nausea stronger. Much more and he wasn't going to be able to hold it in. It would come up whether he wanted it to or not.

"The Colonel?" JJ asked.

Bringing one hand up, Spencer wiped it over his mouth, trying to keep the sick feeling inside. He answered her in an almost absent way. "Colonel Russell Edwards. He's their um well, our…_their_ Dad. He…we should let him know to be cautious, right? We should probably call him or something." And that was definitely _not_ a conversation he was looking forward to. Just the thought of how that was going to go, of the accusations he knew he'd hear and wouldn't be able to deny the truth of, well, those were enough to finally push that last bit of Spencer's control. Pressing one hand to his stomach, he managed a quick "Excuse me" before he raced from the room and towards the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later as Spencer stepped out of the bathroom stall, he found Morgan leaning against the counter by the sinks, waiting for him. The younger profiler said nothing at first as he made his way to the sink and turned the water on. Right then all he wanted was to rinse away the horrible taste in his mouth. After a few rinses, he grabbed some paper towels and dried his face and hands off. When he straightened up, Morgan held a travel mug out toward him. "It's tea, to help settle your stomach and get the taste out of your mouth."

Well that was…nice. Spencer smiled sort of awkwardly at him as he took it. Instead of heading out of the bathroom, Spencer cradled the travel mug in his hands and took a sip, turning to lean against the counter by Morgan. Right now he'd rather be in here, answering Morgan's questions, than out there answering them for everyone. After a few sips, Spencer gathered his courage to speak. "I know you're not happy with me right now."

In typical fashion, the older man didn't mince words with Spencer or try to sugarcoat what he felt. He always granted Spencer honesty. _Something you didn't grant him_ Spencer's mind taunted him. He pushed that down and turned his attention to Morgan. "I'm a little hurt." Morgan admitted quietly. "I just don't understand. Why wouldn't you tell us about them, kid?"

"Because then I'd have to explain everything else." Spencer chewed on his lip and looked down at the mug in his hands for a moment. This wasn't exactly easy to say. Things were going to come out, though. Better to maybe get some of it out now to his best friend. Someone whose opinion mattered more than anyone else here. "It's not exactly easy to admit that my Mom cheated with their Dad, who was married too. My being born messed up a lot of things, Morgan. It put a rift between my Mom and Dad and it split up the Colonel and his wife. The Colonel made sure I knew from day one that he blamed me for it all and Dad made sure I knew what I'd done to their marriage." To give himself a second, Spencer took another drink from the tea, letting it soothe his throat. He couldn't look at Morgan as spoke; his eyes stayed on the cup. "If I tell people about them, especially a group of profilers like you guys, I knew the rest would come out too and I just, I didn't want to have to deal with people knowing all of that."

"What happened to their marriages—that wasn't your fault, Reid. You didn't ask to be born."

Spencer shrugged and bit the inside of his lip. "No one could blame Mom, really. Most of the time she doesn't even remember the Colonel. I guess people needed someone to blame." There was a slight softening to Spencer's face suddenly. "Of all people who had a right to hate me, their Mom never did. Brianna was…she was a wonderful woman. She passed away fifteen years ago. When she separated from the Colonel, they split their time with boys. She got them every summer and she made sure that I spent, at the least, half of summer vacation with them, at least until I was ten. After, well, after Dad left, I didn't want to leave Mom alone anymore. But Brianna, she, she made sure I got to know the boys. That I got to have brothers." And then Spencer found his throat tightening, emotion clogging it. That nausea was trying to come back and the fear was growing again. Here, secure with someone he knew he could trust, Spencer voiced the words that were echoing inside of him, the little fear that was sharp as a knife. "I can't lose him, Morgan."

The older man brought a hand up and put it on Spencer's shoulder as he'd done many times before. The warm weight of it was comforting and it gave Spencer a small measure of strength to draw from. "We'll do everything we can to find him, kid. And we'll keep the rest of you safe, too." He squeezed Spencer's shoulder once before tugging on it. "Now come on, pretty boy. Let's go get to work and see what we can do. Hotch has Garcia analyzing the video and the rest of us are gonna start looking in files and see if there's anyone we can come across that might have a vendetta against you personally. Once your brother gets here, we'll get the evidence he has and process that as well. For now, I know it sucks, but try to treat it like a case. That's the best thing you can do for him right now."

Spencer nodded his head and, with one last sigh, allowed Morgan to lead him out of the bathroom. It was time to get to work. Morgan was right. This was the best thing he could do for Micah right now. Yet inside, Spencer found himself saying a prayer to a being he didn't even believe in. _Let him make it out of this okay, please. Let him be okay._

CMCM

It was harder than Spencer had ever thought it would be to sit there and do his job. The whole time he was thinking about Micah, wondering what was happening to him, whether he was being hurt or not. Whether he was going to be okay. The guilt was burning inside of him and leaving him both sick and exhausted. If something serious happened to him, if he was hurt badly or…well, he wasn't going to think of any _or_. But if he was hurt badly, Spencer didn't know how he'd be able to live with himself.

The first thing the team had done when Spencer had come back with Morgan was try to figure out how they should look at this. From what angle they should work. Aaron had been the one to try and direct them, of course. He'd looked at Spencer, a sympathetic look on his face as he said "We've got quite a pile of cases you were directly involved in and that you were instrumental in solving. That leaves us a wide suspect pool. Let's try and find a way to narrow some things down. Can you tell us how many people knew you had brothers?"

How many people? That had Spencer sitting back in his chair. "The exact number is hard to estimate, Sir." He admitted. Brow furrowing in concentration, he tried to think of an answer. "There's no telling how many people my mom might have mentioned it to or how many would believe her if she did. I doubt Dad told anyone." Of course he wouldn't; that was his shameful little secret. Or, one of them. "I can't guess if the Colonel told anyone or not. I doubt it. Brianna was never shy in introducing me as their brother if we were places. Um…most of the faculty and some students at Caltech." Looking up, Spencer caught the questioning looks at the last one and hurried to answer. "I stayed with Scott when I went to Caltech. It was the only way they'd allow me in at such a young age with Mom staying at home. Scott acted as my guardian while I was there. Well, both he and Micah did. They split the time to work with everyone's schedules."

"So there could be quite a few people who know." Dave said with a sigh.

Spencer grimaced. "Well, yes. But I can't think of anyone back in that time frame that I would've done something to. The note implies that he wants to take away people that I care about, or my brothers. Yet by not only addressing it to me but to the BAU as well, it implies that I may be the main motivator behind it but the BAU has something to do with it. Wouldn't that mean that it would be more likely to be something connected to my work here than my life before the Bureau?"

"Someone who feels you took people from them." JJ said agreeably.

"We should focus on cases where Reid was the one to actually take down the Unsub, then." Morgan said. "And then see if they have any surviving family members, or if any have recently been released."

In all honesty, they all knew there wasn't much they could do until the Unsub contacted then. Right now there just wasn't enough information to work with. Once Scott arrived with any evidence he had from Micah's place, then they could try and profile the scene for that. But they had to wait for Scott to arrive first. If he managed to get a nonstop flight out, something that would take pure luck at the last minute like this, his flight could take close to five hours. If he had only one stop it could take from six to seven hours. They couldn't simply wait all that time.

So, as Garcia worked with the video as best she could, trying to isolate anything that might help, Spencer and the rest of the team attacked their old cases. Hours they worked, first sorting out all the cases that Spencer had been involved in and had been instrumental in capturing the Unsub. Then they sifted through those even more, trying to narrow down their potential suspect pool. Yet they knew no parameters to really work from yet and it was obvious that right now, there was nothing they were going to be able to do. They all knew that. Even Spencer knew that. Yet he couldn't make himself stop working, stop thinking, stop _anything_. Stopping felt like he was failing Micah somehow.

With the combined effort of the team, they finally convinced Spencer that stopping was the best thing to do for the moment. It was late in the day and everyone could do with some food in their systems. The order was placed for food and Emily and JJ volunteered to go and get it for them all. While they left the room, Aaron looked over to Spencer. "Why don't you take advantage of the time? Take your go-bag and go grab a shower, get changed, try to de-stress some before we get back to work. Overworking your brain isn't going to help you do anything."

There was no point in arguing with the man. Spencer didn't even bother to try. Right then, more than anything else, he wanted to be alone anyways. Without a word he rose to his feet and left the conference room, heading straight to his desk where his go-bag was still sitting. Morgan watched him go and couldn't hold in the small sigh that boiled up. "I don't know which one he's having a harder time with. The guilt we all know he's going to be feeling, or the embarrassment at having yet another of his secrets thrown out in front of him."

"What I don't understand is why this would be a secret." Dave said with a shake of his head. "From the sounds of things, his mom and their dad had an affair. Okay, that's not a great thing, but it's not something so shameful that he'd have to hide the fact he has half siblings from everyone."

Morgan said nothing, holding the words Spencer had told him private in his heart as he turned back to look at his friends. He wouldn't betray the kid like that. Apparently he wasn't going to have to. Aaron spoke up and showed just how talented a profiler he really was. "You heard how he spoke of the Colonel. There's no love lost there. Most likely the man blames him for the dissolution of his perfect life. And can you imagine William Reid being comfortable with another man's child in his home, having to see him every day? We all know how easily Reid takes guilt for anything. I imagine they probably made him feel like he belonged neither here nor there. To Reid, it probably wasn't just keeping them secret that he was doing. He probably feels as if he doesn't have the right to even claim them."

"That's pretty much exactly it, Sir." A warm voice said, drawing their eyes toward the doorway. Agent Anderson stood there with…someone who looked an awful lot like Spencer. The resemblance was so striking it stunned the trio for a moment.

This had to be Scott Edwards. The man was most definitely related to Spencer. They looked close to the same height, with Scott maybe a couple inches taller. His frame was slender, though not as rail thin as Spencer's. There was a slightly more noticeable layer of muscle there, lean and compact. A second look easily showed the differences that, at first, they hadn't really noticed. This man's eyes were a dark, dark green, not brown as Spencer's were. His hair was the same shade as Spencer's but it was shorter while still being slightly shaggy. The biggest difference was bearing, though. Whereas Spencer generally looked shy or slightly nervous, depending on what he was doing, this man looked comfortable in his own skin and carried himself with a slight air of confidence to him, as if he knew who he was and where he was going.

True to form, the profilers took in the physical looks and body language first before looking to the rest, adding in the cop uniform the man wore as well as the standard issue gun on his hip. He was a cop. Apparently that was something else that ran in the family. It also explained some of his comfort and confidence in himself. In his arms he carried two boxes while Anderson carried another with him.

"I know, I know." The man said with a half grin that was identical to Spencer's. "We look a lot alike. More alike than Micah and I do, actually." Moving forward, the man set his boxes down while the others rose. Then he stuck his hand out to the person closest to him. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Agent Hotchner, though I wish it could've been under better circumstances. I'm Captain Scott Edwards." He shook each of their hands in turn. "It's a pleasure to meet all of you, actually. I've seen photos and I've heard quite a bit about all of you. Spencer speaks highly of all of you."

"I'm sorry about the circumstances." Aaron said diplomatically. "We hope we can resolve this as quickly as possible."

Dave hooked his hands in his pocket and studied the newcomer. "You got here a little faster than we expected."

Again, a flash of that little half grin, so strange on this different face, the mirth in it not quite reaching his somber eyes. "Benefits of dating someone who owns a private jet. Theo flew me out the instant I told him what was going on. We didn't feel like trying to get everything through the airport and wait through layovers." Reaching out, he laid a hand on his boxes. "Speaking of everything, this is all the evidence we collected from Micah's apartment this morning. Hopefully there's enough in here to give you as accurate a view of the crime scene as possible."

"Do you mind if we take a look ourselves before we have you walk us through it?" Aaron asked him. "We'd like to form our own unbiased opinions before anything else."

"Not a problem, Sir. Is there a place I can get a cup of coffee while I wait?"

"Right over there." Dave gestured out of the room and toward the kitchen area at the back of the bullpen. "Go ahead and help yourself."

After the man left the room, the trio looked at each other once more. "Well that was…different." Dave said wryly.

"No kidding." Morgan looked out the window to where Scott was standing at the coffee machine, pouring himself a cup. "There's no denying the relation there."

Aaron drew the two back to the topic at hand. "Focus on that later. Right now, we've got a missing person to find." He pulled over the first box and took the lid off to start unloading what was inside.


	27. Dark Needs

**spencerremylvr here again, folks! That's right. Cr8zymommy just finished her last round of medication today - outpatient. She's back at home now, lying in bed asleep thankfully. Most likely she'll be up in a while. She's pinned down in bed with a laptop that has no internet, so she's been trying to write a little when she's not sleeping. But she's not getting too much done. however, it's a little more day by day. She's been working on her Undercover story, um, that would be "Come What May" and so long as people don't mind a short chap, I'll post it for her in the next couple days. In the meantime, she wrote this little snippet for an idea that came to her while she was a little high on her pain meds (she says she wasn't, I say the hospital drugged her well and good lol!) and she thinks it's a medication-induced-crap but I personally think it's fantastic. So, my lovelies, I'm here to pass her snippet to you. Hope you enjoy it ;) It's a little...different!**

* * *

Spencer knew he should break things off with Francis. He knew it wasn't good for him, what they had. But oh, God, he felt so good! He felt _wonderful_. Despite the pain there, despite the ridicule, he felt _good_.

He knows this relationship is unhealthy. He knows that. The name calling, the physical abuse, it's not okay. But there's no one that knows him quite like Francis does. No one _controls _him quite like he can. The things he does, the things he can do…God! Around him, Spencer doesn't have to be in control of himself. Hell, he _isn't_ in control and he knows it. Francis takes that from him. Spencer doesn't offer it—Francis takes it. He takes control and he masters Spencer, body and mind, and it hurts but yet it's so good. He goes to this other place when with him. Some place where even the pain feels good. Where he knows he'd do anything Francis asks, be anything he needs him to be, so long as he never stops making him feel so good. When the world feels out of control and crazy, he could always count on Francis to anchor him there.

If other people knew, they'd be disgusted by him. He knew that. Logically, he knew he should be disgusted by himself. And when he wasn't with Francis, that's what he felt. Disgust. He was disgusted that this was what he wanted. That his body craved this. Craved the punishing grip on his hips, the hand held tight in his hair, the sting of hand against skin…he shuddered with pleasure. Yes, he craved this, more than he ever had anything. It made him feel _alive_. It made him feel real even when all else around him felt like it was falling apart. Even the bruises he walked away with weren't so bad. They were like testament to his reality. Reminders buried in his skin that he was alive and that he could still feel. Sometimes he could feel them for days after they were gone. He'd touch his lips and be able to remember the rough, biting kiss, so hard and sharp that it sometimes split his lip. He'd sit down in a chair and immediately be reminded of the hand slapping his skin, of his body being filled over and over until his legs gave way and even then Francis would just hold him there, pounding away, reducing Spencer to a mess of quivering muscles and screaming nerves.

No one else had ever been able to do that to him. Francis somehow stripped him down until he was nothing but skin and heat and just, oh, he'd torture him for hours but the torture was just so sweet. His whole universe would narrow to the sensations invoked in his body. Then the man would make him fly. Take him up out of himself and just make him fly. Nothing else in life had ever been able to do that to him. Not even the Dilaudid was that powerful, that good.

Every time he'd go back on a case, he'd look at himself and see the bruises that his layers of clothes hid and every time he'd tell himself that this was going to be the last time. He'd promise himself that he wouldn't let Francis hurt him anymore. Because even though it felt good, it was wrong. The things Francis said to him, the control he exerted over Spencer's life, it wasn't healthy. No partner should be that controlling. And every time Spencer went home, he would get one step in the door and be met by that fierce, powerful man, get swept off his feet and slammed into the wall to be kissed until his lips were bruised and his body was already singing and he knew he wouldn't tell him no. He would let Francis destroy him. Because the alternative was to never feel like this again and oh, that was a fate that was worse than death. He needed this fire, this passion—an yes, the pain—just to make it through life. He needed the bruises that were written into his flesh. He needed the ache that came from being totally used.

If the tradeoff was that he had to live with the verbal abuse, that he had to put up with the pain even when it wasn't pleasurable, well, that was worth it to keep him alive and sane, right?


	28. Snippet and an AN

**Hey everyone, cr8zymommy here. Yeah, yeah, I know. Been a long time. And I hate to disappoint, but this is not my return. I'm only here shortly, just to give you all a brief message, and to change the info on a few of my stories. Right now, my stories are all on hiatus and I'm sorry about how long they've been that way. My health is not doing too well right now. I thought things were better after the last treatment but there have been a few complications and some adverse reactions and, well, I'm going to be okay, it's just taking a while. I'm sorry I won't be updating for a while. I'll be marking most of my stories as *on hiatus* for now until I feel better. When I come back, I'll post here in the drabbles to let everyone know.**

**Anyways, I couldn't just post a page with an AN because it's against the rules, so here's a clip I wrote for my friend Spencerremylvr that goes in the story he's currently posting, titled A Little Something Special. It's one of his Remy LeBeau/Spencer Reid slash stories, but he took Remy out of the X-Men world and made him a regular person just like anyone else, and threw him into the CM world. So he's like Remy Lebeau, with bits of his past and such like that, but mostly he's Spencerremylvr's character lol. If that makes sense. Anyways, he hates writing case parts, and I do too, but he convinced me to write this part for him, so I thought I'd share it here for you guys to read, just because it gave me the ability to post this LONG AN lol.**

**Take care everyone and I hope to see you soon!**

* * *

It only took five minutes of being inside Rupert Newcomb's house to see that Spencer had been right in his prediction in the car. Rupert very obviously looked at the young agent and officer and judged them by their age and appearance and dismissed them as any kind of threat. He allowed the two into his house and in his living room. They both stayed standing when it was obvious Rupert wasn't going to sit. Rupert was of a like size with Aaron; Spencer estimated him to be maybe an inch taller than Aaron and probably about the same weight, give or take five pounds. His brown hair was cut short and stylish, made to spike here and there. Sharp blue/green eyes watched them with just a touch of amusement. Though the rest of his body language stayed calm, controlled, it was those eyes that the experienced profiler made sure to watch. They would give him away.

Spencer took him through the basic spiel, explaining who they were and that they were there to ask him about a few young men he'd had encounters with. According to Penelope's information, Rupert was thirty one years old, worked at a local grocery store as a cashier, was single with no children, was an only child to divorced parents, had graduated high school but failed out of college, and had been raised in a strict catholic household.

Rupert looked at the pictures Spencer handed him, skimming casually through them. "Yeah, I seen em. They came in to the store sometimes. Came through my line a few times." He closed the folder and held it out toward Spencer. "That's 'bout all I knew 'bout em. They weren't exactly the chatty type at the register, ya know? Just paid and left."

"Did they usually come in alone, or was there ever anyone with them?" Reaching out, Spencer took the folder and held it in casually front of him.

Shrugging, Rupert hooked his hands in his pockets. "Sometimes. Some of them fancy, college friends of theirs. They'd come through talking and laughing and making a nuisance of themselves." A slight sneer curled his lip before it smoothed away and there was a flash of anger in his eyes. "Like I said, they didn't talk to me much. Boys like them, with their fancy educations, they don't talk to guys like me."

Alarm bells went off in Spencer's mind. His attention sharpened while his outside stayed calm and just a bit meek. "I bet that made you angry, them treating you that way." He probed carefully.

This time it was easier to see the anger tightening around Rupert's eyes. He had a harder time smoothing that away. But then it was replaced with a look that Spencer could only deem satisfied. "Doesn't really matter." Rupert said with a shrug.

Spencer's phone buzzed and he pulled it out, seeing Derek's name on it. _Morgan, you have got to have the best timing_ he thought to himself. He'd just been trying to figure out a way to discreetly excuse himself to make a call. Holding up the phone, he gave Rupert a shy smile. "I'm sorry, it's my coworker. Why don't you tell Officer Evans here about some of the friends you saw these men with, if you can recall? I'll be right back." And Spencer pressed the button to answer the call as he made his way toward the front door. "Reid."

_"Hey, Reid. My guy checked out already and Prentiss and Rossi are back at the station. Rossi's checking in with Hotch. How're things going with you?"_

Wow, they'd gone through their suspects fast, hadn't they? Then again, his and Evans' had been the furthest from the station, almost twenty minutes. This was a secluded bit of property with the house and a barn in the backyard. Spencer chewed on his lip as he opened the door and stepped outside, letting it slip shut behind him. He tried to think of how to word this. There was a very good chance that he would still be able to be heard if he stood here on the porch, so he moved down the porch and toward the car, hoping it would look casual if Rupert looked out the window. "So all of you are back at the station, then?"

_"All except Hotch. Is everything okay?"_ The last part was asked just a bit sharply. Derek hadn't failed to notice that Spencer hadn't answered his original question.

"I'm not quite sure." He cast a look over his shoulder.

Derek didn't waste any time. _"Are you in danger?"_

"Not yet, I believe. I'm not absolutely positive. There are signs, though."

_"Hang tight, Reid. Do not do anything yet, we're on our way. Keep him calm until backup arrives."_

A wry grin tugged at Spencer's lips. "I'd kind of already figured that one out on my own, Morgan, but thanks."

_"Smart ass."_

Anything more that might've been said was cut off by the sound of two quick gunshots from inside the house. Spencer swore and spun, drawing his weapon and dropping the phone. He didn't hear Derek shouting out his name. Every inch of him locked down in and he switched over fully to Agent Reid. He moved quickly and carefully, taking one final deep breath before going back in the door. He was only two steps in when he heard another door towards the back of the house. That was about the same time that he saw Evans on the ground, bleeding. Son of a bitch. Hurrying over, he squatted down beside him, automatically reaching to find a pulse. He didn't have to. As soon as he dropped to one knee, Evans opened his eyes. "Go." He croaked out. "Go. He's panicking and he'll go kill the kid. Go."

Spencer yanked off his sweater and put it over the wound on Evans' stomach. Then he grabbed his hands and put them over. "Put pressure right there. Backup's on their way." That was all he had time for. Raising his weapon, Spencer rose to his feet and hurried toward the backdoor. He flung it open in just enough time to see Rupert darting toward the door to a barn at the back of the property. Spencer took aim and fired once, twice. There was a shout and then Rupert was in the door and Spencer was running. His heart was pounding as he hurried forward. This had to be one of the single most stupid things he'd ever done, chasing after an armed Unsub on his own, with one officer already down and no vest. But if he didn't hurry, Joe Boston could die, and Spencer knew he couldn't let that happen.


End file.
